A Darker Dream
by IceBoyRohan
Summary: AU Slowly he bent his head toward him, his tongue stroking the warmth of his neck. He moaned softly as his teeth grazed his throat. "Sleep, little one. you have nothing to fear, it's only a dream." No Flames.
1. Prologue

A Darker Dream

Pairing: SebastianxCiel

Rating: M

Story originally by Amanda Ashley.

PROLOGUE

**Heart of Darkness**

In the darkness of the full moon,

His spirit has wandered for centuries,

Lost and alone,

Never sharing the light

Of a new day,

Always in the midnight hours

He has walked.

Darkness claims his troubled soul,

the past haunts his waking hours;

The, like a glimmer of sunlight,

he came to claim him,

touching places long dead,

reviving hope, promising love.

If only he dared to believe,

if only he dared reach out,

and take that which he needs.

Within the sadness, the emptiness,

If just for tonight,

his warm hand and gentle ways

could dispel the endless night.

Could love break this darkness he lives in?

Believe, me Lord Sebastian, only believe

and love, happiness, and peace will find you.

He had always loved the night. His favorite pastimes – drinking, gambling, and the pursuit of a beautiful man – were best accomplished in the hours of darkness.

The best times of his life had been spent in dimly lit saloons and smoky gambling dens, or in lush candlelit bedrooms. But that had been long ago.

Only now did he fully understand what he had lost when the light had been taken from him. Because he was like the sunlight – bright, warm, beautiful.

And, like the sun, he could never be his.


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Sebastian sat back in his chair, trying unsuccessfully to mask his disgust as he watched Vincent Phantomhive attempt to auction off the eldest of his five sons.

Head down, hands limp at his sides, the boy stood mute, like a beast bound for slaughter. His hair a dull dirty brown, his bangs hiding his face as effectively as the shapeless grey robe hid the body beneath.

"See here, Sebastian," Viscount Druitt complained. "Can't we have a little more light?" Sebastian shook his head. The room was dark, and he liked it that way – dark wood paneled the walls, a dark blue carpet covered the floor. Matching draperies hung at the windows, the lamps were turned low, as always. Anyone who shared the back room of Cotyer's Tavern with him knew he avoided bright light. It was one of his many quirks, one the rich young men of the town endured for the sake of being in his rather questionable company.

"Well, if we can't turn up the lamps, then have the boy disrobe." Lord Tewksbury called from the back of the room. "I refuse to bid on a pig in a poke."

"Aye," Viscount Druitt agreed. "Tell the boy to peel off those rags so we can see what we're buying."

The call was taken up around the room. Vincent Phantomhive hesitated, then whispered something to the boy. Head still bowed, he began to unlace the bodice of his robe. Sebastian watched through narrowed eyes, noticing the way the boy's hands trembled as he unfastened that shabby frock. Though he could not see his face, he knew his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, knew his heart was pounding like that of a fawn caught in the jaws of a wolf.

"Enough." Just one word, softly spoken, but it carried throughout the room.

"See here, Sebastian," Trancy protested. "I think…" Sebastian silenced him with a quelling glance. "The boy is mine," he declared, having decided, in that moment, to buy him, though he still had not seen his face.

"Seeking a new mistress?" Viscount Druitt inquired.

"No."

"A housemaid, perhaps?"

Sebastian met Viscount Druitt's gaze. Viscount Druitt was a tall, good-looking man, almost as wealthy as Sebastian himself. Of all the men Sebastian gambled with, Viscount Druitt came closest to being a friend. Ignoring the viscount's question, Sebastian waved to the old man. "Bring him here."

"Aye, milord." Hastily, Vincent Phantomhive grabbed his son by the arm and dragged him across the room. "You won't be disappointed, milord. He'll serve you well."

"Yes." Sebastian murmured. "He will, indeed." Reaching into his pocket, Sebastian brought out a handful of bank notes and thrust them at the other man. "Has he a name?"

"Of course, milord. It's Ciel, but he'll answer to anything you wish to call him."

"You know where I live?"

"Aye, sir." Everyone knew of Sebastian's castle, located at the top of Devil Tree Mountain, it stood like a sentinel over the town, tall, dark, and mysterious, like its master.

"Take her there. My man will look after her."

"Aye, milord."

Sebastian waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. Turning back to the game, he picked up his cards. "You lose again, Viscount Druitt," he drawled softly, and spread his hand on the table.

Viscount Druitt tossed his cards into the pot.

"Seems to be your lucky night," he remarked good-naturedly.

Sebastian grunted softly. "Perhaps you're right," he mused as he watched the boy follow old man Phantomhive out the door. "Perhaps you're right."

Ciel huddled on the narrow wagon seat beside his father, unable to control his body's trembling, or to accept the fact that his father had sold him to a man like Sebastian, a man who was rumored to have many strange and unusual habits.

The spires of Castle Rayven loomed in the distance, a dark shape rising out of the smoky grey mist that shrouded Devil Tree Mountain both summer and winter. With each passing mile, his trepidation increased. He thought briefly of jumping out of the wagon and taking his chances with the wild animals that lurked in the woods.

He was gathering his courage, deciding death would be preferable to a life of servitude to the mysterious Lord Sebastian, when he felt his father's hand close around his arm.

"Sebastian paid me a handsome sum for ye," Vincent Phantomhive said, his mild tone at odds with his vice-like grip. "Ye'll stay with him so long as he wants ye, and do whatever he asks without question. Do ye ken my meaning?"

"Aye, Father."

Phantomhive nodded. A short time later, he parked the wagon in front of the castle. "Go on, boy."

Ciel slid a glance at his father, trying not to hate him for what he was doing, trying to feel some sense of satisfaction in knowing that the money his father had received would buy food for his mother and younger sisters.

"There was no other way, lad," Vincent Phantomhive said in gruff apology.

Ciel nodded. Mostly likely, he would never see his father again. He had lived in Shinjuku Valley all his life. He was not ignorant of the tales of Castle Rayven and its Lord.

"Good-bye, Da."

"Good-bye, lad." Vincent Phantomhive met his gaze briefly then looked away. He knew something would condemn him for selling his own flesh and blood, but he would be better off with Sebastian. At least he would have enough to eat. "Ye've always made me proud, Ciel," he said brusquely. "Go on with ye now."

Blinking back tears, Ciel alighted from the wagon. Squaring his shoulders, he walked up the narrow stone steps to the wide double doors, took a deep breath, and lifted the heavy brass knocker.

Moments later, the door opened up , and Ciel found himself staring into a pair of hooded brown eyes.

"Mr. Phantomhive, I presume."

"Y…yes," he stammered, startled that the stranger knew his name, that she had been expecting him. How had she known he was coming?

"I am Meirin"

The woman stepped back, gesturing for him to enter. She was a rather tall girl, with short red hair, rather sharp eyes, and thin lips. She looked young enough to be his sister. Feeling abandoned and very much alone, Ciel stepped over the threshold. The entryway was cold and dark. He shivered as Meirin closed the heavy door behind him

"I have a bath prepared for you, sir."

"Thank you."

"This way."

Pulse racing with apprehension, he followed her down a long narrow hallway, up a steep flight of stairs, into a large room that was lit by a single fat white candle.

"You will find the tub in there," Meirin said, pointing to a door across the room.

"Please leave your clothes out here, on the floor. I have been instructed to burn them."

"Burn them! But they're all I have."

"No doubt Lord Sebastian will provide you with suitable attire, sir. There are clean sheets in the bed. The bellpull is there, should you have need of me during the night."

Too stunned to speak, Ciel nodded.

"Good night, sir. Sleep well."

He waited until she left the room, then went to the door and closed it. Undressing, he dropped his clothes on the floor, then went into the other room. The light from a dozen candles revealed a large tub of hot water, a bar of scented soap, and a length of heavy toweling.

He started at the steam water. Never in all his life had he had a bath drawn for him and him alone. At home, baths were infrequent. In the summer, he bathed in the river. Only in the winter did they bathe indoors, and then he to wait his turn. Usually, by the time he got in, the water was cool. And dirty.

He stepped carefully into the tub and sat down, a contented sigh escaping his lips as the blissfully hot water closed around him. Perhaps living here would not be so bad. The two rooms he had been given were larger than the hut he shared with his parents and sisters.

He washed his hair three times, his body twice, and still he sat in the water, basking in its warmth, until the water grew cold.

Stepping out of the tub, he dried off, then wrapped himself in the towel and went into the bedroom. The first thing he noticed was that his clothes were gone. And then he saw the night gown. It lay on the bed light a splash of white paint against the blue coverlet. Unable to resist, he ran his hand over the material. Dropping the towel, he lifted the gown over his head, sighing with pleasure as the garment slithered over his bare skin.

He glanced around the room, hoping to find a mirror, curious to see how he looked in such a costly gown, but to no avail. Crossing the floor, he drew the heavy draperies away from the window and peered at his reflection in the glass. The material clung to him like a second skin.

"Silk," he murmured, running one hand over the gown in disbelief.

"It feels like silk."

"And so it is."

Releasing the curtains, Ciel whirled around. "My lord, I didn't hear you come in."

"Do you like the gown?"

"Y…yes," he stammered. "V…very much."

Sebastian regarded him through narrowed eyes. Cleaned up with his hair damp, he was quite the loveliest thing he had ever seen. He took a step forward, his hand reaching to touch a smooth, peach-colored cheek. With a little cry, he backed against the wall. Immediately, Sebastian lowered his hand. "I will not hurt you." he said quietly.

Ciel swallowed hard, mesmerized by his voice. It was deep and soft, yet strangely compelling, as were his eyes. Fathomless maroon eyes that looked old beyond their years. Eyes that seemed able to look into her and through her at the same time.

Moving slowly, Sebastian closed the distance between them, stopping when he was only a breath away. Ciel had not realized how tall he was. He loomed over him, his short black hair framing his face like a dark cloud. He was dressed in all black save for his shirt and a blood-red cravat loosely knotted at his throat. A thin white scar bisected his left cheek, his lips full and sensual. He guessed him to be in his late twenties.

Like a mouse mesmerized by a snake, he watched his hand move toward him, felt his fingertips stroke his cheek. His skin was smooth and cool.

"How old are you, boy?"

"Fifteen, my lord."

Sebastian swore under his breath. He knew many men his age were already married and had children. Still, he had not thought her quite so young. Not that it mattered. He had no designs upon his flesh, soft and smooth thought it might be.

"Shall I…shall I get into bed, my lord?"

"If you wish."

He watched a blush stain the boy's cheeks as he slid a glance at the bed.

"Should I…" He gulped, the blush in his cheeks spreading to his neck. "Should I disrobe?"

Sebastian raised one brow, then shook his head. "I've no intention of bedding you, boy."

"No?"

The relief in his voice caused a sharp pain in the neither regions of a heart he thought long past feeling. "No."

"Then why…" Her cheeks grew redder. "I thought…"

"I bought you for reasons of my own, sweet Ciel." He replied, his voice as silky as the gown he wore.

"Might I ask what those reasons are?"

"No." He turned away from the boy, his hands clenching at his sides. "You may have the run of the castle, save for the rooms in the east tower. You are never to go there."

"Yes, my lord."

"Meirin will supply anything you wish. You only have to ask her."

"Anything?" Ciel asked.

"Anything. If you desire to paint, she will provide canvas and brushes. If you wish to play the pianoforte, she will instruct you. If you wish to pass your days reading, I have a rather extensive library."

"I don't know how to pain or play the pianoforte or read, my lord." Ciel lowered his gaze. "I don't know how to do anything."

Sebastian swung around to face him, a curious light in his eyes. "Would you like to learn?"

"Yes, my lord," he said eagerly, "very much."

"Meirin will teach you whatever you wish."

"Thank you, my lord."

Sebastian stared down at the boy. His eyes were blue, like a summer sky, like the lake in the village where he had spent his youth. Deep blue eyes filled with excitement. And fear.

He was afraid of him. The thought cut deep, though he could not fault him for it.

"Meirin will take you shopping tomorrow. Buy whatever you need."

"You are most generous, my lord."

"Not at all, sweet Ciel, for the price will be dear."

His eyes widened at the veiled threat in his voice. He clasped his hands together, hands that trembled violently.

"You have nothing to fear from me." He said. "After tonight, you will not see me again."

The fear in his eyes turned to bewilderment.

"My lord?"

"Go to bed, boy."

Ciel scrambled into bed, his heart pounding wildly as Sebastian drew the covers up to his chin. Ciel stared at him, frightened and confused, yet fascinated by him at the same time. What a strange man he was. He had the oddest feeling the he had bought him simply to save him the embarrassment of disrobing before a room full of half-drunken men. He was soft spoken and well mannered, yet he sensed a hint of carefully controlled violence lurking beneath the smooth facade, and beneath that smoldered and emotion more dangerous, and more deadly, something he could not define. It was that which frightened him the most.

"Rest well, sweet Ciel." Sebastian murmured. He blew out the candle and then he was gone.


	3. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

The moon is my sun,

The night is my day.

Blood is my life,

And you are my prey.

Ciel woke slowly, and even as he opened his eyes, he thought he must still be dreaming. He sat up, plumping the pillows behind him. Last night, he had given any heed to his surroundings. Now, he gazed around in breathless wonder. Blue-and-white striped wallpaper adorned the walls. Heavy blue damask drapes covered the windows; a matching counterpane was folded on the foot of the bed. There was a thick rug on the floor, woven in shades of blue.

He was about to get out of bed when she heard a knock at the door.

"Mr. Ciel?"

"Yes, come in." He drew the covers over him as the door opened and Meirin stepped into the room.

"Lord Sebastian instructed me to take you shopping this morning after breakfast."

Ciel nodded. "Yes, he told me."

"I've brought you something to wear." She said placing a large parcel on top of the table beside the bed. "When you are dressed, please come down to breakfast."

"I will, thank you."

"Is there anything you prefer?"

Ciel shook his head.

"Very well, I shall expect you in, say, half an hour?"

"That will be fine."

"Unless you wish to have breakfast in bed."

"In bed? I'm not sick."

A slight smile flickered over her lips. "Half an hour than, sir," she said, and left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

"Breakfast in bed," Ciel mused, smiling. "Imagine that."

Rising, he opened the box, marveling at the bounty within. The outfit was of orange and brown taffeta, with a square neck and long fitted sleeves. He ran his hands over the undergarments, unable to believe the finery of it all. So pretty he wished he could wear it on the outside. Never had he owned anything so fine in all his life.

He dressed slowly, inspecting each item. He glanced around the room again, wishing for a mirror. At home, a looking glass was considered a luxury beyond their reach, but surely Lord Sebastian could afford a hundred mirrors.

Odd, he thought as he made his way down the narrow staircase. But the, rumors of strange doings at Rayven Castle were rampant in town. Some said the place was haunted; others said that they knew of women and men who had gone there and had never been seen or heard from again. But they were only rumors, and he had never given much credence to idle gossip. After all, people said his father drank too much and that he beat his wife and children, and Ciel knew that wasn't true. Vincent Phantomhive might not be the kindest, most affectionate father in the town, but he wasn't a monster, either.

When he reached the main floor, he wandered from room to room. Vaulted ceilings. Dark wood. Heavy draperies at the windows. Costly paintings and tapestries on the walls. Numerous statues and figurines and carvings made of silver and pewter and wood. Crossed swords above a massive stone fireplace. Expensive rugs imported from exotic places. But not a single mirror. He frowned. There were no clocks in the house, either.

The dining room, like the other rooms in the house, was large and dark and expensively furnished. A lace cloth covered the long trestle table. A pair of silver candelabra stood in the center of the table. Long white tapers filled the room with a soft glow. Dark green velvet draperies covered the windows. There was a painting of a hunting scene on one wall, a painting of a sunset done in bold shades of pink and crimson on another.

There was only one place setting on the table. The plate was china rimmed with gold; the water glass was of fine crystal, the flatware was gold. Stunned by such opulence, he sat down.

Moments later, Meirin entered the room, a covered tray in her hands. As she uncovered it, a variety of rich aromas filled the room. There was sliced ham, poached eggs, fluffy biscuits, pats of butter, a jar of quince jam, a bowl of porridge, fresh strawberries and cream, sliced peaches, a pot of tea.

"I hope this is satisfactory, sir," she said.

"Oh, yes." He had never seen such a variety of food at one time. "Will…will Lord Sebastian be joining me for breakfast?"

"No, sir."

He should have been relieved. Instead, he felt a wave of disappointment

"Will there be anything else. Sir?"

"No, thank you."

"Very well, sir. I'll bring the coach round when you're ready to go."

Ciel nodded, overwhelmed by the richness of his surroundings, the bounty spread before him. Certain he couldn't eat it all, he sampled everything, and when he sat back twenty minutes later, he was amazed to see there was nothing left. He had eaten every bite.

He spent the rest of the morning at Madame Sofia's. At a loss to know what fabrics and styles to pick for himself, Ciel gave himself over to the modiste, who, after taking his measurements, sent Ciel on his way with the promise of three day outfits to be delivered the following afternoon, and the rest within a week, along with all the necessary undergarments, hats, shoes, gloves.

Ciel's head was spinning by the time they returned to the castle. Meirin prepared a lavish midday meal, graciously accepted his thanks, and then suggested Ciel take a nap.

Ciel smiled. A nap in the middle of the day! He had never had that luxury before. But, tempting as it sounded, he wasn't tired.

"Would it be all right if I looked around?"

"Of course, sir. This is your home now. You may explore at your leisure. All the rooms are at your disposal save those in the east tower."

"Thank you, Meirin."

"What time would you like supper, sir?"

"I don't know. What time does Lord Sebastian usually dine?"

"Lord Sebastian rarely dines at home."

"Oh." He felt a wave of disappointment as he recalled that Lord Sebastian had told him he would not see him again. Even though he frightened him, he thought him the most fascinating man he ever met.

"Seven o'clock, sir?"

"What? Oh, yes, that will be fine. Thank you."

He spent the rest of the day exploring the castle, certain he would never find his way around. So many rooms and stairways and passages. He bypassed the first story, where, in olden times, the granaries had been located, as well as the boxes and barrels and casks that had held household supplies.

The second floor housed the dwelling and common rooms for the inhabitants of the castle. Meirin's kitchen was here, adjoining a large, well-stocked pantry. A passageway led to a dormitory where the castle's ladies-in-waiting had once slept. It occurred to Ciel that his chamber, which was the largest room he had seen, must have been the sleeping quarters for the lord and lady of the castle. Knowing that made him wonder anew where Lord Sebastian's chamber was.

He turned down another corridor, glad he had thought to bring a lamp with him, for the hallways were dark. He had never been given to flights of fancy and he wasn't about to start now, although, if one were going to believe in ghosts and goblins, he supposed the castle at Devil Tree Mountain would be the perfect place to start.

He paused now and then, admiring the paintings and rich tapestries that hung on the walls.

The first room he came to was a library filled with more books than could be read in a lifetime. Ciel ran his fingers over the spines. He lifted a heavy volume from another shelf and opened it, staring in wonder at the fine spidery script. Gilt edged each page. He saw beautiful drawings of cherubs and winged horses.

Turning the pages, he found drawings of wolves and ravens and bat, a skeletal figure in a long black cloak, a dark angel who held a skull in one hand and a silver chalice in the other.

Disturbed by the images, he closed the book and put it back on the shelf. He entered the great hall next. This room, where the family had once dined, was furnished with a long trestle table and a single high-backed chair made of black wood. Looking closely, he saw that the black of the chair was carved in the shape of a raven with its wings folded. Weapons of every kind imaginable decorated the walls.

A solarium located in the eastern corner of the house was filled with plants gone wild.

Caught up in exploring the wonders of the castle, an hour became two, three.

He spent a few minutes in the music room, running his fingers over the yellowed keys of a small pianoforte. He had often wished he could play, but there had been no time to learn, and no one to teach him. He smiled as he remembered that Lord Sebastian had promised him lessons. A rather elegant-looking harp stood in the far corner of the room. He found a violin resting in a dusty case atop an equally dusty table.

On the third floor, he counted twelve rooms that he assumed had once been bedrooms for the master's children and servants. All were empty, the floors covered with a thick layer of dust.

He climbed another flight of stairs and found himself in a round tower room that overlooked the river and the forest beyond.

He went down several narrow, twisting flights of stairs and found himself in a dungeon. Wrinkling his nose against the damp, musty smell, he his lamp higher and took a few steps inside, his footsteps muffled on the hard-packed earthen floor. Long rows of iron-barred cells lined both sides of the corridor.

Standing there, he felt a sudden sense of evil. Men had died here. He could almost hear their screams echoing off the grey stone walls; taste their fear as they met violent death…

With a squeal of fright, he turned and ran out of the dungeon. He took the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding as ghostly images rose up in his mind – grotesque images of blood and horror, of men being tortured, of terror and pain beyond bearing.

He was gasping for breath when he reached his room. Inside he slammed the door, turned the key in the lock. He blew out the candle, then fell across the bed, willing his heart to stop pounding, his pulse to stop racing.

There was nothing evil in the dungeon, nothing to fear. It was only the fact that he had never been away from home before coupled with a vivid imagination that had him running scared. He was lucky to be here, in this place. For the first time in his life, he had a room of his own, food enough to eat, a beautiful wardrobe. And, if Sebastian was to be believed, anything else he wanted was his simply for the asking.

Comforted by that thought, he fell asleep.

Sebastian sat in front of the huge fireplace that dominated his bedroom, his elbows braced on the arms of his chair, his chin resting on his folded hands. He stared into the flames, but it was the boy's image that filled his vision. Vivid blue eyes deeper than any ocean. Beautiful blue eyes wide with fear. Pale pink lips. Skin the color of wild honey. Light brown hair that reminded him of the sunlight he had not seen in four centuries.

The boy had cleaned up well, he mused. Perhaps too well. Never before had he brought home one so young or so innocent or so lovely. For a moment, he contemplated sending the boy away. But only for a moment.

He glanced out the window, judging the time. He would be asleep by now. He licked his lips as he rose from the chair. A thought took him to his bedside. For a moment, he stood gazing down at him, bewitched by his beauty, his innocence. He slept on his side, his cheek resting on one hand. His hair was spread across his face like a splash of sunlight, tempting his touch.

Moving slowly, he ran his fingers through the boy's hair. Soft, he mused, so soft. He let the fine strands trickle through his fingers and then, unable to help himself, he stroked the boy's cheek. Let his fingertips slide down the length of his slender neck to rest lightly on the pulse throbbing slow and steady in his throat. Heat rushed through his fingertips. Ah, yes, he would have to be extremely careful with this one. Ciel aroused far more than his accursed hunger.

Muttering an oath, he withdrew his hand.

The boy stirred on the bed as he sat down beside him.

"Sleep, sweet Ciel," he murmured. "Dream your young boy's dreams." He brushed a lock of hair away from his neck, placed his hands lightly on his shoulders. "Rest well. You have nothing to fear."

Slowly, he bent his head toward him, his tongue stroking the warmth of his skin. Ciel moaned softly as Sebastian's teeth grazed his throat.

"Sleep, little one," he murmured. "You have nothing to fear. It's only a dream."

In the morning, Ciel woke feeling hungry and oddly lethargic after a good night's sleep. Recalling that he had missed supper, he decided that accounted for his hunger as well as his lassitude. Sitting up, he felt faintly dizzy. "Too much sleep, and not enough food," he muttered as he slid his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up.

He looked at the bellpull, hesitant to summon Meirin, wondering if he would ever get used to the idea of having someone ready to fulfill his every desire.

"No time like the present to start getting used to it." He reasoned, and tugged the cord. Minutes later, Meirin knocked on the door.

"Come in."

"Good morning, sir." Her gaze moved over him, and Ciel thought he saw a look of pity in her eyes, but it was quickly gone, and he decided he had been mistaken.

"Could I…that is, I'd like a bath, please."

"Right away, sir. The water is heating." She left the room, only to reappear a moment later, a tray in her hands. "I thought you might like to take breakfast in your room this morning."

"Why, yes, I would, thank you."

"Is there anything else, sir?"

Ciel shook his head, wondering if she was some kind of mind reader.

"Your bath will be ready shortly, sir."

"Thank you, Meirin." He paused, frowning. "How did you get in here?"

"Through the door, of course."

"But I…it was locked, wasn't it?" He glanced at the door. "I'm certain I locked it last night."

"You must be mistaken."

Ciel shook his head. "No, I'm sure it was locked when I went to bed."

"Will there be anything else. Sir?"

"No, thank you."

Feeling somewhat dazed, Ciel carried the tray to bed. He'd been tired last night. Maybe he hadn't locked the door. With a shake of his head, he put the thought from his mind.

Making himself comfortable, he ate a leisurely breakfast. Took a long soak in the tub, then spent an hour trying on his new clothes, wishing there was a mirror in the house so he could see how he looked.

Later that day, he asked Meirin is she would find one for him.

"I'm sorry, sir," Meirin said, her expression impassive, "his lordship refuses to have them in the house."

Ciel frowned. "But, why?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid that's something you must discuss with Lord Sebastian."

"How can I, when I never see him?"

"I'm sorry, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Lord Sebastian said you would teach me to play the pianoforte and to read."

"I should be pleased to help you, sir."

Ciel smiled at her. "Thank you, Meirin. I should like to begin this afternoon, if you don't mind."

"It will be my pleasure, sir. Shall we meet in the library at three?"

In the weeks that followed, Ciel's days fell into a pleasant routine. He spent his mornings wondering about the grounds when the weather permitted; if it was raining, he struggled with a bit of fine needle-work. He had learned early how to sew a seam or mend a tear, but he'd never had the time to sit and do what his mother called "fancy work."

He ate a late dinner, took a nap, and then spent the rest of the afternoon under Meirin's tutelage. She taught him to play the pianoforte; she taught him to read, and to write. He almost squealed with delight the first time he wrote his name without any help. _Ciel Phantomhive. Mr. Ciel Phantomhive. S. Phantomhive. _He wrote it over and over again, thinking how grand it looked, how wonderful it was to be able to write his own name.

After supper, he spent a quiet hour going over his lessons, and then he retired for the night. One evening before going to bed, he told Meirin he wished he could plant a garden; the next day, he found a variety of seeds and seedlings on a bench in the side yard.

As the days passed, he came to realize that Meirin was quite a remarkable woman. There were no other servants in the castle. Meirin was cook, valet, maid, and housekeeper, all rolled into one. In addition, she did the shopping and the laundry, looked after the grounds, and tended the horses. She never intruded on his privacy, yet she was always there when needed. Truly, a most amazing woman, he mused.

He had been at the castle several weeks when the nightmares began – dark dreams filled with a sense of impending doom, horrid dreams filled with death and hideous fangs stained with blood. Other nights he woke feeling cherished and desired, his heart beating fast as he recalled a phantom hand gently stroking his cheek, the touch strangely erotic. And always, after such dreams, he woke up feeling tired and hungry.

He voiced his concern to Meirin, wondering if he needed to see a doctor, but she assured him that he was perfectly fine, that it was only the change in diet and atmosphere causing him distress, and that he would soon adapt. There was pity in her eyes when she said this, and she refused to meet his gaze.

"Is something wrong?" he had asked. "Something you're not telling me?"

"I'm being as honest with you as I can, sir."

"Will I ever see Lord Sebastian again?"

"I don't know, sir. I hope not," she replied, and left the room.


	4. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

I long for what I've lost

For that which can never be.

I cloak the horror of what I am

And prey you never see.

He sat in his favorite chair before the fire, gazing, unseeing, into the flames. The boy permeated his house, his thoughts, and his dreams. Never before had a boy affected him like this, taking hold of his every waking moment, tormenting him with his nearness. He spent his nights hovering near him while he slept, watching him, and listening to him breath, to the beat of his heart, the sound of the blood flowing through his veins. He smelled always of flowers. Even when the hunger lay dormant within him, he was drawn beyond his power to resist being with him, to touch the smoothness of his cheek, to run his fingers over his lips and imagine his mouth there.

He was so beautiful, this boy who wandered through his house by day and sustained him through the night. He knew his thoughts, heard the tears he sometimes shed in the night. It pleased him to satisfy his every want, to dress him in fine clothes, to provide the best food and wine that money could buy. He took pride in his ability to learn, and ordered books and music he thought would please the boy.

It was the least he could do, he thought, for he would give him life, and no matter how he tried, he could never repay him for that.

He knew the moment the boy fell asleep. He heard the change in his breathing, felt a change in the house itself, as if the life went out of it while he slumbered.

He would not go to him tonight. He would take to the streets and ease his craving there. Yet even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew it for the lie it was. Already he was rising, Ciel's innocence calling to him, beckoning him, the single light in the darkness of his existence.

Soundlessly, he climbed the stairs and opened the door to his room. He locked his door each night, but no lock made could keep him out.

And then he was standing beside his bed. Gazing down at him. It was a warm night and he had thrown off the covers. His nightgown had ridden up, exposing a long length of softly rounded thigh.

His body stirred to life, hunger and desire riding him with whip and spurs as he sat down on the bed beside him. He was bending over him when he realized that he was awake and starring at him.

Certain he was dreaming, Ciel closed his eyes and opened them again. The tall dark figure was still there, hovering over him, like smoke.

"Lord Sebastian?" he couldn't see his face in the darkness, yet he knew somehow that it was he.

"Go to sleep. Ciel." He murmured. "You're very tired. Your eyelids are heavy, so heavy you can no longer keep them open."

"No…"

"Sleep, sweet Ciel. Sleep is what you need." His voice, deep and melodic, winding around him like a soft cocoon.

His eyelids fluttered down, and he was following a narrow path through the darkness. He tried to turn back, but his feet refused to obey. His heart was racing; he could hear the blood pounding in his ears as he drew even closer, wondering who awaited him in the shadows tonight, the man who took him in his arms and held him as if he were a precious gift, or the one who preyed upon his flesh. Would he awake feeling loved and protected, or sobbing with fright? Or would this be the night she wouldn't awaken at all? …

He came awake to the sound of his own cries. Disoriented, he looked around, his pulse gradually slowing as he realized the nightmare was over and he was safe in his room.

He glanced at the door; the key was still in the lock. It had all been a dream, and yet this one had been so real, so vivid, he would have sworn Lord Sebastian had entered his room last night, that he had awakened to find him sitting on the bed beside him, his dark eyes glowing with an unholy light as he bent over him.

Ciel shook his head to clear the images from his mind. Just a dream. That's all it had been, just a dream. He brushed a lock of hair away from his neck, his fingers pausing as they encountered what felt like an insect bite.

He spent the day in his room and tried to study his lesson, but he couldn't concentrate. He tried to take a nap, but sleep eluded him. He had no appetite for lunch.

Meirin looked on him several times. Once, he asked her to look at the marks on his neck. A shadow passed over her eyes as she examined the tiny wounds. _It's nothing, sir, _she had assured him. _A bite of some kind, I would say. Perfectly harmless._

At dusk, he shook aside his lethargy, bathed, and dressed for supper.

Meirin had just served the first course when Ciel felt a sudden tingle. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Lord Sebastian standing in the doorway, dressed, as before, in impeccable black.

"My lord." He started to rise, startled by his unexpected appearance, unnerved by the fact that he was a man of title and property, while he was nothing more than his servant, no matter that he had yet to serve him in any way.

He motioned for him to remain seated as he took the chair across from him. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Of course not. It's your house, after all."

He toyed with his napkin as Sebastian settled back in his chair. A moment later, Meirin entered the room bearing a crystal decanter and a wineglass, which she set in front of Sebastian.

"Thank you, Meirin," Sebastian said. "That will be all."

"As you wish, my lord."

When they were alone again, Sebastian studied the boy's face, noting the faint smudges beneath his eyes. "You are well?"

"Yes, my lord."

"And are you happy here?"

Ciel's gaze slid away from his. "I am not unhappy, my lord." He gestured at the platters of meat and fowl in the center of the table. "Will you not eat something, my lord? Meirin is a very fine cook." He felt his cheeks flush. "I don't suppose I need tell you that."

A faint smile hovered Sebastian's lips. "Thank you, no. How are your lessons coming along?"

"Nicely, I think. Meirin says I have talent music, but it's reading I love."

"Indeed?"

"Oh, yes! Tales of brave knights and fair ladies, far-off lands, dragons and sorcerers."

Sebastian's hands clenched in his lap as he watched the boy's face, so alive, so expressive. So young. Heat flowed through him as Ciel went on, his voice filled with the excitement of discovery. Had he ever been that young, that eager to learn?

Ciel bit down on his lip, suddenly conscious of Sebastian's gaze on his face. His eyes, as black as midnight mist, seemed to be searching his very soul.

"I'm…I'm sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean to run on like that. It must seem silly to you."

"Not at all. Perhaps…" he took a deep breath. "Perhaps you would read aloud to me this evening."

"Oh. I…I'm still learning. I'm afraid you would soon be bored."

"It would please me very much, Ciel."

"Very well then, if you're sure."

"Quite sure."

"Would you care for a glass of wine, my lord?"

At his nod, Ciel lifted the decanter and filled his glass, noting, for the first time, that the wine was dark and red. Like blood.

Sebastian's fingertips brushed his as he took the glass from the boy's hand. He was startled by the little frissons of heat that leapt from Sebastian's skin to his, by the jumbled images that filled his mind, images of a man writhing in pain, bleeding, screaming.

As quickly as it had appeared, the vision was gone, leaving him to wonder if he had seen anything at all.

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed upon the boy's face. Had he felt it, too, the mystical flame that had sparked between them? He had glimpsed a well-spring of hope within him, a yearning for a home and family of his own, longing for the home he left behind. What, if anything, had Ciel sensed in him?

Ciel took a deep breath, unsettled by the tension between them. "Would you mind if I shared your wine?"

"I doubt you would find it to your liking."

Ciel glanced at the dark liquid in the decanter, and then reached for his own glass, which was filled with water.

"Finish your supper, Ciel," he said. "You need to keep up your strength."

"Why? I never do anything more strenuous than play the piano."

"Because you're hungry."

Obediently, he picked up his fork and began to eat. He _was_ hungry, after all.

Later, Sebastian sat in a chair before the fire, sipping from his wineglass, while Ciel read to him. Time and again, Ciel glanced in his direction, expecting him to be bored or asleep, but always he found Sebastian watching him, his fathomless red eyes burning with a strange fire, a warmth hotter and more penetrating than the heat radiating from the crackling flames in the hearth.

"Tell me about yourself," Sebastian said, surprising them both.

"There's little to tell, my lord. I have two sisters, all younger than I." his voice turning bitter. "My father sold me. Surely that tells you all you need to know."

"It tells me he needed money."

"He could have sold his horse."

A wry smile curled Sebastian's lip. "And would you have pulled the plow in the horse's stead?"

Ciel's lifted his chin defiantly. "I have done so in the past." His admission touched a chord within him. Proud, Ciel was, in spite of his poverty.

"You'll never have to do so again."

"Why did you buy me?"

Sebastian shrugged, unable to admit the truth. "Why do you think?"

"I don't know." His gaze slid away from him. "I thought that…I mean…"

"Go on. What did you think?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me." Ciel heard the sliver of steel beneath his softly spoken command.

"I thought you bought me so I wouldn't have to disrobe in front of the others."

"You're very perceptive, sweet Ciel."

"But why? You never…" Fire climbed into his cheeks, and he bent his head to the book.

"I never come to your bed?"

He didn't look up, but he nodded.

"And that bothers you?"

"Oh, no," he said quickly. It didn't bother him, not really, although it stung his pride to think Sebastian found him so ugly as to be completely undesirable.

"Ciel, look at me."

Slowly, Ciel met his gaze.

"You are a beautiful young man," he said quietly. "But you are young. Far too young for me." Sebastian's hands clenched in his lap. "Be glad I do not come to your bed."

A shiver ran through Ciel as Sebastian's gaze held his. "You would not like what would happen if I did."

Ciel stared into his eyes, caught in their darkness, in blackness that was icy cold yet hotter than flame. It was like looking into eternity, he thought, into an endless black void filled with such yearning that he wanted to weep.

Muttering an oath, Sebastian stood up. "Go to bed, Ciel." He said curtly.

Frightened by the seething turmoil in his voice, he scrambled to his feet and hurried from the room. Panic lent wings to his feet, and he fairly flew up the stairs to his bedchamber. Inside, he turned the key in the lock, and then collapsed on the bed, feeling as though he had just escaped, though from what, he couldn't say.


	5. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

I shadow my gaze in your presence

And pray you may ne'er be part,

Of the hunger that claws at my vitals

Of the evil that blackens my heart.

Sebastian stared after him; his hands curled into tight fists. It had been a mistake, joining him at supper. Never before had he spent time with the women or men he brought here. He used them as long as it was safe, then he paid them handsomely and sent them away. Far away, with a warning never to return. He had never watched any of the others so avidly while they slept, or burned with such longing for the touch of their flesh.

But Ciel…he drew him in ways he didn't understand. The boy was no different from the others. All had been young. All had been beautiful. Though none had been quite so young, or quite so beautiful as Ciel. All had been born in poverty and ignorance. But none had expressed such an eagerness to learn.

He should send the boy away now, before it was too late.

But he knew he would not.

Releasing a deep breath, he reached from the wineglass on the table. He stared at the deep red liquid for a long moment, suddenly sickened by the blood and wine concoction that had sustained him for four hundred years. With an oath, he hurled the goblet into the fireplace and stalked out of the room.

Ciel sat back on his heels, an immense feeling of satisfaction warming him as he surveyed his handiwork. It had taken hours and hours of hard work. But the castle gardens bloomed with color. Months ago, there had been nothing out here but barren ground and a few scraggly weeds. Now, there were flowers of all kinds and colors, lacy ferns and shrubs.

At home, he had spent long hours laboring in the vegetable patch, hoeing, weeding, and nurturing the tender plants that fed the family. There had been no time or space to waste on flowers.

Rising, he pressed a hand to his back. But this…he closed his eyes, basking in the sun's warmth, in the heady fragrance that rose all around him. This had been a labor of love. He had planted vegetables, too, but only the ones he liked.

Removing the wide-brimmed hat that shaded his face, he walked along the narrow dirt path that wove in and out of the flower beds. In addition to flowers, he had planted fruit trees, thinking they would add not only beauty for the eye and shade from the sun, but a bountiful harvest.

When he reached the end of the garden, he stared at the maze that rose up near the castle's outer wall. The hedges that formed the maze were the only thing in the garden that had not needed care. He wandered to the edge of the maze several times, but he had never found the courage to go inside. There was something ominous about the place, though he couldn't say what. Perhaps it was his fear, however irrational, of being lost in it.

With a sigh, he sank down on one of the marble benches that were scattered through the garden. It had been three months since the night Lord Sebastian had joined him in the dining room. Why had he sought him out that night? Why hasn't he sought his company again?

He had been at the castle for almost six months now. Anything he desired was his for the asking. He had all the clothes he would ever need. He had become an avid reader and he had discovered he had a talent for playing the pianoforte, and for painting. In truth, he had everything he ever wanted – everything except someone to share it with.

When he was bored, Meirin drove him to the marketplace in the next town for a day of shopping and then, like a silent shadow, she followed him wherever he went. It would have been fun, buying whatever caught his eye, taking lunch in one of the inns, if it hadn't been for the boldly curious stares people sent in his direction. Save for the shopkeepers, no one spoke to him, though all who saw him nodded politely. It amazed him that gossip from his small village had spread to the next town that everyone he met seemed to know he was living in Castle Rayven. Sometimes he heard Sebastian's name mentioned, always in hushed whispers, always followed by the sign to ward off evil. It gave him a sad lonely feeling.

Once, he had asked Meirin if he might invite his mother and sisters to the castle. She had replied, "No, sir, you may not," in such a way that he had never asked again.

Occasionally, he wondered if she might permit him to go visit his family, but he never had the nerve to ask.

Sometimes he felt like a prince in a fairytale, imprisoned in a magic castle but cut off from the rest of the world.

And always, lurking in the back of his mind like a dark shadow was Sebastian. He never saw him, never heard his voice, save in his dreams. He wondered what he did all day, if he was even in the castle. For all he knew, he could have left months ago. Sebastian. He was like a riddle with no answer, a puzzle that couldn't be solved. Why had he brought him here?

Sebastian stood in one of the rooms in the east tower, staring out the window, his gaze drawn to the yard below. Bathed in the dancing silver shadows of the moon, the white roses glowed like ethereal blooms planted in some mystical garden. He felt a sudden longing to wander through the grounds during the light of day, to see the myriad colors of the flowers that Ciel had nurtured, to touch the petals the boy's hands had touched. In the darkness, the bright rainbow colors looked muted, devoid of life.

Turning away from the window, he donned his cloak and drew on his gloves. Perhaps a midnight ride would sooth him; if it did not; he would go to Cotyer's and squander the remaining hours of darkness at one of the gaming tables and lose himself, for a few hours at least, in a semblance of normalcy.

Leaving the room, he locked the door behind him, and then made his way swiftly along the dark hallway and down the stairs.

His steps slowed as he approached the stables. Abruptly, he turned away and made his way to the side yard. The fragrance of hundreds of flowers, of freshly turned earth, and grass and trees, rose up around him as he walked slowly down the narrow pathways, pausing now and then to caress the velvety softness of a rose. Ciel had done this, had turned ugliness into beauty. He wondered if, offered the chance, the boy would be able to work the same miracle in his life.

A ripple in the air, the scent of warm skin alerted him to the boy's presence. He whirled around, his gaze piercing the darkness.

"Come out," he said. "I know you are there."

He stepped from behind a hedge, his cheeks flushed, and his hands worrying the folds of his robe. Moonlight washed his hair in silver, turned his skin to alabaster.

"What are you doing out here at this time of night?" Sebastian demanded.

"I…"

"Speak up, boy. You needn't be afraid."

"I saw you from my window, and I wondered what _you_ were doing out here at this time of night."

"I was thinking of you." Sebastian admitted.

His words sent a thrill of excitement racing down Ciel's spine. "Were you, my lord?"

He nodded, his gaze sweeping over the boy. He wore a voluminous robe of apricot-colored velvet; a front of white framed his face. His feet were bare and oddly provocative. "Why aren't you asleep, sweet Ciel?"

"Because, my lord," he replied candidly, "I was thinking of you."

"Indeed?" Surprised by the boy's candor, delighted to know he had been in his thoughts, Sebastian took a step closer. "What were you thinking?"

"I was wondering what I had done to displease you."

"You please me very well, Ciel." Far too well for my peace of mind, he mused, and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his pants to keep from reaching for the boy, from taking that for which he hungered.

"I've not seen you for months, my lord." He should have been glad of that, he thought, for Sebastian was most mysterious, and sometimes, a little frightening. And yet the few short hours he had spent in his presence had been intoxicating.

"You should be glad you've not had cause to see me," he replied brusquely.

"Should I?"

Sebastian gazed deep into his eyes, probing his thoughts, feeling his loneliness, his confusion. He was a young boy on the brink of manhood, yearning for something he did not fully understand. Like a finely crafted violin, he awaited the touch of the master's hand to bring forth the music locked within him.

Drawn into the depths of the boy's eyes, he moved slowly toward him. Needing to touch him, steeling himself to be rejected, he pulled off his gloves and tossed them aside. A gasp – or was it a sigh? – escaped Ciel's lips as his hand stroked his cheek.

"My lord?" he heard the boy's uncertainty in the trembling of his voice.

"I will not hurt you." Sebastian said, praying he spoke the truth. "I only want to touch you. Your skin is so soft, sweet Ciel. So soft…" bending his head, he brushed Ciel's lips with his.

"Sweet," he murmured, "as I knew you would be."

Ciel stared up at him, caught in the web of his gaze, in the shivers of pleasure that undulated through him. There was fire in Sebastian's touch, magic in his kiss, that it could make him feel so changed.

With a low groan, Sebastian took a step back, the twin talons of hunger and desire clawing their way to life.

Taking Ciel's hand, he started walking toward the maze.

A sense of dread filled Ciel's heart as they reached the entrance. With a wordless cry, he tugged on his hand.

"What's wrong?" Sebastian asked.

"The maze." He shook his head. "It frightens me."

"There's nothing to fear."

Ciel looked up at him, his eyes luminous in the moonlight. His hand was small and warm in his. Sebastian could see the pulse racing in his throat.

"Come, Ciel," he whispered, his voice low and seductive. "Don't be afraid."

As though mesmerized, Ciel fell into step beside him. His gazed darted nervously from right to left as they went deeper into the maze. Soon, tall hedges rose on every side, cocooning his in a silent world of greenery.

He lost track of time until it seemed as though he had been walking through the maze for hours. Sebastian was a tall, dark figure standing beside him. The moon cast silver highlights in his hair. His black cloak floated from his shoulders like thick black fog. Ciel had never seen a cloak like his. It seemed alive somehow, moving when he moved, surrounding him in protective folds. His profile was sharp, yet curiously beautiful. He wondered if this is what death looked like, dark and seductive.

It took Ciel a moment to realize Sebastian had stopped walking. Glancing around, he saw what had once been a rose garden, though all that remained now were a few dead plants. In the center of the small garden was a bronze statue of a snarling wolf, and beside it, the figure of a raven carved in black marble.

A shiver of unease tiptoed down his spine. An odd choice of ornamentation for a garden, he thought.

Conscious of Sebastian's gaze, he turned his face to him. "I…I'm sure it must have been very lovely once."

Sebastian raised one dark brow, his lips curved in wry amusement. "Do you think so?"

"I don't know. But it could be."

Sebastian turned away from him and stared at the statues, felt the darkness rise up within him, heard the wildness calling him, bidding him to shed the thin veneer of humanity and run wild through the night.

"My lord?"

Ciel's voice, the underlying fear, drew him from the edge of darkness. Feeling as though he too, was made of cold marble, he turned to face the boy once again.

"Could you work a miracle here, sweet Ciel?" he asked softly. "Could you change this ugliness into beauty?"

Ciel looked into his eyes, wondering if he was talking about the garden, or himself.

Sebastian placed a finger beneath his chin and tilted the boy's face up. "Could you, sweet Ciel?"

"I'll try, my lord."

"Would you kiss me, boy?"

"If you wish."

"No Ciel, not as I wish. I want you to take me in your arms and kiss me of your own free will."

He was lonely, Ciel thought, as lonely as he.

Time slowed, and he became acutely aware of his surroundings. He felt the cool dampness of the grass beneath his feet as he stepped toward Sebastian, until their bodies were almost touching. Sebastian's cloak was soft beneath his fingers as he placed his hands on his shoulders. And then he rose on his tiptoes and kissed him. His lips were cool and firm. When he started to draw away, Sebastian's arm curled around his waist, holding him close against him. Ciel felt the tremors that shook his body, sensed that he was keeping a tight rein on his emotions, and sensed the underlying strength that dwelt in him.

His eyelids fluttered down as Sebastian's tongue traced his lower lip, and then plunged into his mouth. Heat and fire exploded within him, radiating outward, until he felt as though he were melting in his arms. Distorted, disjointed images flickered in his mind – a wolf crouched over its prey, an enormous black bird drinking blood from a crystal goblet, a thick gray fog moving through the darkened streets of the village.

He heard Sebastian swear under his breath as he let him go.

Like a slate wiped clean, the images disappeared, and he blinked up at him, feeling dazed and suddenly bereft.

"Ciel? Ciel!"

"Aye, my lord?"

"Are you alright?"

"I…I don't know. I thought I saw…"

"What?"

Ciel shook his head. "I don't remember."

Cursing softly, Sebastian pulled him into his arms, his chin resting lightly on the boy's head. "I beg you to forgive me, sweet Ciel," he whispered hoarsely.

"Forgive you, my lord? But why? What have you done?"

"I hope you never find out," he replied, his voice suddenly harsh.

Sebastian held him for a long while, letting his power move over him, claiming him. Ciel closed his eyes, soothed, like a child, by the steady beat of its mother's heart beneath his cheek.

Sebastian knew the moment sleep claimed him. Murmuring the boy's name, he gathered him into his arms. With Ciel's eyes closed and the moonlight shimmering on his face, he looked like a prince in a fairy tale.

A wave of tenderness swept through Sebastian as he carried the boy out of the maze and into the silent darkness of the castle.

In his room, Sebastian put him to bed, still fully clothed, and drew the covers over him. He was innocence personified, he thought, and for the first time in years, he hated who he was, what he was, because it denied him all hope of a normal life, of love. He would never have a wife; never know the quiet joy of holding a child he had fathered.

Tenderness turned to regret, regret turned to anger, and anger burned into a hot fierce rage. He had resigned himself to his lonely life shortly after he'd been made. Knowing such things would be forever denied him, he had put all thought of a home and family out of his mind, his heart.

He had thought himself content, happy even, until Ciel. Seeing him, holding him, had awakened feelings and desires that had lain dormant within him for centuries.

With a low-throated growl, he bent over the boy, hating him for the power he had over him, for the weakness he felt when he looked at the boy. His hand brushed a lock f hair from his neck.

Ciel's scent filled his nostrils, stirring his hunger, kindling his desire. If this was all of him he could have, then so be it, he thought, and let loose the beast that dwelt within him.


	6. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

I look into his eyes

And find forgiveness there

And for a moment –

One brief, sweet shining moment,

I see and end to my despair.

It had been a mistake to touch him, to kiss him. Having once tasted Ciel's sweetness, he could think of nothing else. He sought him out at supper, sipping from his wineglass while he watched him eat, listening with rapt attention while he told him how he had spent his day. Ciel had a bright mind, a keen intellect, and a delightful sense of humor. MEIRIN had told him Ciel was a quick study, that he was making remarkable progress.

Sebastian saw the results for himself each night when he read to him, as he was doing now.

He sat in his favorite chair, staring into the flames if a fire that did little to warm the coldness within him, listening to him read. The sound of the boy's voice washed over him like silken sunshine, softer than eiderdown, hotter than the flickering flames that danced in the hearth. Through heavy-lidded eyes, he watched the boy, wondering how it was possible for him to grow more beautiful with each passing day. His cheeks bloomed with color, his eyes sparkled, and his skin glowed with youth and life. The firelight cast golden shadows on his profile. Mesmerized like a love-struck youth, he basked in the boy's nearness, in the breathy sound of his voice.

Several minutes passed before he realized that he had stopped reading, that he was staring back at him.

"Is something wrong, sweet Ciel?"

"No, my lord."

"Why have you stopped reading?"

A faint smile played over the boy's lips. "I stopped some time ago."

He frowned. "Will you tell me why?"

"Because the story is over, my lord."

He looked at the boy for a long moment, feeling quiet the fool, and then he laughed.

Ciel stared at him. He had rarely seen him smile, never heard him laugh. It was a wondrous sound, deep and rich. And contagious. Ciel felt a wave of answering laughter rising up within him, mingling with his, until the walls echoed with the sound.

And then, without quite knowing how, Sebastian was kneeling before him, and the laughter died in the boy's throat.

"Ciel." Sebastian took the boy's hands in his and kissed each one. "Do you know how long it's been since I laughed like that?"

"No, my lord."

"A very long," he replied, his gaze burning into Ciel's. "Longer than you can imagine."

"Then I'm glad I made you laugh."

"What can I give you in return?"

"My lord?"

"A new outfit to match the color of your eyes? A chain of fine gold?"

"I want nothing my lord. You have already given me too much. And I…" Ciel looked away. "I have given you nothing in return."

Guilt, sharper than the thorns on the roses Ciel loved pricked his conscious. Ciel had given him far more than he imagined. More than he had any right to take.

"Name your prize, sweet Ciel. You have but to name it and it's yours."

"Anything I want? Truly?"

"Truly."

"I should very much like to have a mirror in my room."

Sebastian sat back on his heels, his dark eyes suddenly shadowed and cold. "A mirror?"

Ciel nodded his expression eager. "You've given me so many fine things. I want to see how I look."

"Very well," he said his voice tight. "You shall have one."

"Did I say something wrong?" Ciel asked his eyes filled with confusion. Sebastian shook his head, and then rose slowly to his feet. "Go to bed, boy."

Ciel stood up. As always, Sebastian's size surprised him. He moved with such stealth, spoke with such quiet. "Will you not tell me what I've done to displease you so?"

Sebastian turned away from him to star into the fire. "Go to bed." His voice was brittle, like frozen glass.

"Very well my lord."

Sebastian listened to the sound of his footsteps, muffled by the thick carpet, as he crossed the floor.

"Good night my lord."

Sebastian could feel the boy watching him, waiting for a reply, heard him sigh as he opened the door and left the room.

Sebastian stared into the flames. He could sit in this room and pretend he was a man like any other. He could pretend Ciel was his that he was there because he wished it. He could surround himself with riches, but he could not hide from the truth any more than he could walk in the sunlight, or see his reflection in a mirror. Such simple things, forever denied him.

The mirror that Meirin deliver to Ciel's room the following afternoon was quit the most exquisite thing he had ever seen, a full-length looking glass set in frame of burnished oak. And in the top corner, etched in spidery script, were his initials.

"Oh, it's beautiful," he murmured. He ran his hands over the wood, traced the letter of his initials.

"Lord Sebastian will be pleased that you approve."

"Oh, I do! Is he home? I must thank him."

"He is unavailable."

"He's never here during the day," Ciel said, pouting. "Where does he go?"

"I'm sure I don't know, sir."

"You don't?"

"No sir." The hesitation in her voice told him she was lying. "Will you be coming down for dinner, sir?"

"No, I don't think so." He turned away from the mirror. "I think I'll take a nap."

"Very well, sir." With a slight bow, Meirin left the room.

Ciel went to the window and stared down into the gardens. He'd been here for months. And only now had he realized he had never seen Sebastian during the day. Why had Meirin lied to him? Was Sebastian here? Upstairs perhaps?

Curious, he crossed to the door, opened it, and peeked out. There was no sign of Meirin. Tiptoeing from his chamber, he made his way down the corridor toward the east tower.

His footsteps echoed loudly in his ears as he climbed the narrow winding stairway. Ninety-nine steps. He was breathless when he reached the top.

Pausing to catch his breath, he glanced down the long corridor. There was no light up here save for what little filtered through the shuttered windows set in the thick stone walls.

Peering inside, he saw that the room was filled with furniture – brocade sofas, chairs covered in faded embroidery and horsehair, curved settees covered in damask. There were tables in all sizes and shapes, chairs made of rich dark oak and mahogany, delicate stools and marble-topped commodes. All were covered with a layer of dust, as if they had not been used for decades.

Closing the door, he crossed the hallway to the opposite room. It too, was crowded with the furniture of another era.

The next room was filled with works of art: statues, paintings, and bronze figures, vases made of crystal and porcelain, china figurines, a huge sculpture of a raven hewn in black wood. These, too, were covered with dust and cobwebs. Ahead was the tower room itself. He knew, without knowing how he knew, that this was Sebastian's personal lair. Moving cautiously, he approached the door. He pressed his ear to the smooth wood, and when he heard no sound from inside, he put his hand on the latch.

Heart pounding, he opened the door and stepped inside. There was no light at all in this room. Heavy black velvet draperies covered the windows. Crossing the floor, he drew back the curtains, then turned and looked around. The room was empty.

Puzzled, he let the draperies fall back into place. Why had Sebastian forbidden him to come here? What possible reason could he have for not wanting him to see rooms filled with old furniture, or this empty tower? From out of nowhere came the chilling sensation that he was not alone. Unreasoning panic rose up within him, driving him out of the room. He ran down the hall, down the stairs, a silent sob rising in his throat as images of darkness and death swirled through his mind.

He ran blindly through the castle until he reached his chamber. Inside, he locked the door, flung the windows wide. Sitting on the bed, he clutched a pillow to his chest and stared at the sunlight pouring through the windows, hoping it would dispel the darkness that seemed to enfold him like a thick black smoke, permeating his very soul. And in the center of the darkness, he sensed a loneliness so deep it broke his heart.

Sebastian sat across the table from Ciel, idly swirling the liquid in his goblet, watching the crystal catch the candlelight. "We're going to the opera next week. I want you to go out and buy something suitable to wear."

"My lord, surely I have no need of more clothes."

"Do it to please me. Something blue, to match your eyes, I think."

"Very well my lord, if it will please you."

Ciel swallowed hard, his gaze sliding away from Sebastian's. "Today, my lord?"

"Yes, today."

"I…Meirin brought me a new piece of music."

"Will you play it for me?"

"If you wish, though I've not yet, mastered it."

"You are a most biddable creature, sweet Ciel."

"My lord?" Ciel looked at him askance, not know if he was praising him or complaining. Sebastian considered him over the rim of his glass. He had never kept a boy who was so agreeable, one who asked for nothing, who seemed to take genuine pleasure in his company. It stroked his male vanity to think Ciel cared for him, even a little. The others had done his bidding, but he had been ever aware of the fear in their eyes, the lust for what his wealth could buy. He had given them whatever they asked for, had smothered them in gifts – jewels, furs, costly raiment – deeming it a small price to pay for what he took. He tilted his head to one side, regarding Ciel through half-lowered lids. He had sensed the boy's presence in the tower, his very essence, when he woke that evening. He had never kept a boy who dared defy him. For that act of courage, he would buy Ciel a sapphire necklace to match his new outfit.

"What else did you do today?" he asked silkily.

Fear rose up in Ciel's throat. _He knows, _He thought franticly._ He knows what I've done, and now he'll punish me._

"You've been here some time now," Sebastian remarked in that same deceptively mild voice.

"Yes."

"I trust you've gone exploring."

"You said I might have the run of the castle, my lord," Ciel replied, a definite quaver in his voice.

"So I did. Save for the east tower."

Ciel nodded, unable to speak past the fear coagulating in his throat.

"You remember my warning?"

He nodded, and then crossed his arms lest Sebastian see him trembling.

"See that you do not disregard my wishes again."

"Yes, my lord."

Sebastian smiled at him over the rim of his goblet as he drained the glass. Rising, he offered Ciel his hand. "Come," he said. "I wish you to play for me."

"Thank you, my lord."

His brow lifted in a gesture Ciel had come to recognize as mild amusement. "For what, my sweet Ciel?"

"For not being angry with me. For being so kind."

"Kind?" Sebastian laughed softly, the rich full sound filling Ciel with sensual pleasure. "Of a truth, no one has ever called me that before."

"Indeed, my lord?"

"Indeed, my sweet."

"Then I shall do so often, if it would please you."

"You please me." He replied. And so saying, he lowered his head and covered Ciel's mouth with his, kissing him with an intensity that drained the strength from Ciel's limbs even as it seemed to draw all the air from his lungs.

Ciel stared up at him, feeling strangely light-headed, when Sebastian dew his lips from his.

Sebastian smiled down at him, his dark eyes burning. "Never doubt that you please me very well."

Long after Sebastian had left him. Ciel could feel the heat of Sebastian's lips, the urgent hardness of his body against his. Though Ciel had never known a man, he was not totally ignorant, but he had never dreamed that such pleasure was part of it. The women in the village whispered of putting up with a man's base nature, of enduring the hardship of the marriage bed. They had never mentioned the wonder of it, the fluttery feeling in one's stomach.

Earlier, Sebastian had listened to him play, dismissing his mistakes with a wave of his hand. It had been an easy piece; normally, Ciel would have played it without hesitation. But Ciel couldn't forget his touch, couldn't keep his hands from trembling with the memory of being in his arms, of touching him. Even now, it seemed as if the imprint of his long lean body had been burned into his.

It seemed an effort to move, yet at the same time he seemed to be floating over the floors, up the stairs.

In his room, he removed his shoes and stockings, and slipped into bed. Ciel dreamt of him that night, dreamed that he was there, in his room, sitting beside him on the bed, his dark cloak floating over him like a shroud as he bent his head toward him. In the uncertain light of Ciel's room, Sebastian's eyes seemed to glow like smoldering coals. Ciel felt his hands grip his shoulders, felt his lips at his throat, felt the familiar lassitude steal over him as his teethe grazed the tender skin of his neck. Sensual pleasure mingled with pain. Ciel moaned softly as Sebastian's hands tightened on his arms. And then his voice, whispering in his ear.

"Only a dream, sweet Ciel." He murmured, his voice hypnotizing him with its power. "Only a dream…"

Ciel's eyelids fluttered down, but not before he saw him rise from his bed like a dark mist. Ciel blinked once, and he was gone, as if he'd never been there.

But, of course, it was only a dream.


	7. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

His touch has rendered me helpless,

His trust weakens the chains of the past.

Dare I believe in the love he offers?

Have I found an end to this darkness at last?

Ciel's eyes widened as he stepped into the opera house. Except for the occasions when Meirin had taken him shopping in the neighboring town, it was the first time he had been out of the sheltered valley where he had been born, the first time he had been to the city. He couldn't help starring at the women, as beautiful as butterflies in their flamboyantly colored gowns of silk and satin.

He lifted his chin defiantly, trying to pretend he was one of them, that he belonged there. His outfit was just as fashionable, just as costly. The sapphires at his throat were fit for a king. But, try as he might, he couldn't help feeling like a servant boy playing dress up in his master's clothes.

Once his initial awe wore off, he realized people were staring at Sebastian. He heard snatches of conversations as Sebastian escorted him up the stairs to Sebastian's private box.

"It's Sebastian…"

"Haven't seen him here in years…"

"…A new master…"

"So young..."

"He's lovely…"

"…Odd…he never changes…"

He was certain his cheeks were red with embarrassment by the time they reached their box. Sitting there, he hid his face behind his fan.

"Pay them no mind, sweet Ciel," Sebastian said. Taking the seat beside him, he settled back in his chair, a bored look on his face.

"They're talking about us."

"Let them. Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?" and indeed, Ciel did. The deep blue velvet complemented the creamy smoothness of his skin and made his eyes seem darker.

Ciel nodded, wishing he could just disappear. Never before had he been the object so much discussion, so much speculation. He hadn't had to hear the words to know they thought he was Sebastian's little master.

He risked a glance at the box across from theirs, shrank back as he recognized the tall, blond man. He had been at Cotyer's the night his father auctioned him to the highest bidder.

He had seen Ciel too. Smiling he inclined his head in Ciel's and then blew him a kiss. He heard Sebastian mutter something under his breath and then, to Ciel's relief, the curtains parted and the opera began.

Ciel had never seen or heard anything like it – the costumes, the actors, and the music, the dancing. Even though he couldn't understand the language, he had no trouble following the story of a rich young man in love with a peasant girl.

At intermission, Lord Viscount appeared at their box. He sketched a bow in Sebastian's direction, then bowed over Ciel's hand.

"Good evening, my dear,' he said, and Ciel heard a hint of a smile in his voice. "How well you look."

"Thank you."

Viscount Druitt dropped into one of the chairs, his long legs stretched negligently before him. "Can't remember the last time I saw Sebastian at the opera," he remarked. "You must be a good influence on him."

"I…" Ciel shook his head. "It was Lord Sebastian's idea, not mine." A smile lit Ciel's face. "But it is wonderful isn't it?"

"You're enjoying it, then?"

"Oh, yes, it's a wonderful play. I've never seen anything like it."

Sebastian sat back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest, as Viscount conversed with Ciel. His detachment rapidly turned to anger as Viscount Druitt began flirting with Ciel, complimenting his hairstyle, comparing the blue of his eyes to the sapphire necklace he wore. Sebastian watched Ciel's cheeks turn scarlet as he murmured a polite thank you. His hands clenched into tight fists, the mild anger he'd felt quickly turning into fury as Ciel laughed softly at something Viscount Druitt had said.

"Enough." The word, softly spoken, cut across Viscount Druitt's flowery compliments like a knife through butter. With lazy grace, Viscount Druitt stood up, murmuring his farewells as he bent over Ciel's hand, then turned to Sebastian. "Will we see you at Cotyer's later, my lord?"

"No."

Viscount Druitt looked at Sebastian with what could only be called a smirk. "A foolish question, indeed," he said. "Good night, my lord."

"Viscount Druitt."

Ciel fanned himself, not daring to meet Sebastian's gaze. He had not missed the hint of anger in Sebastian's voice, though the reason for it eluded him.

Ciel was grateful when the performance resumed.

Sebastian had seen the opera many times, and it was Ciel's face he watched during the last act. As he had suspected, Ciel wept when the heroine killed herself rather than face life without the hero, though why a woman would want a weak willed man like the hero was quite beyond him.

When the curtain came down, he offered Ciel his handkerchief. "Dry your eyes, sweet Ciel. It was only make-believe, after all."

"But it was so sad. They loved each other so much."

"Nonsense! If he'd loved her, he would have disobeyed his father and married her instead of shackling himself to a woman he didn't love."

"Yes," Ciel murmured, "I suppose he would have."

Gaining his feet, Sebastian draped his cloak over Ciel's shoulders. "Ready?"

With a nod, Ciel stood up and placed his hand in Sebastian's. He held his head high as they left the box and made their way outside.

It was a beautiful moonlit night. A bright yellow moon hung low in the sky. He stood beside Sebastian, conscious of the people nearby, aware of their curious stares, their whispered words as they speculated on his relationship with Castle Rayven's dark lord.

He was relieved when Meirin arrived with the carriage.

Sebastian's hard muscled thigh brushed against his as he shifted in the seat. The scent of his cologne tinged the air. He rapped on the roof, and the carriage lurched forward. They drove in silence for several minutes. Ciel glanced out the window, admiring the moonlit countryside.

"Viscount Druitt finds you quite attractive, my sweet."

Ciel turned his head to look at him, surprised by his blunt remark. "My lord?"

"Don't play coy with me, boy. I saw the way he looked at you. The way you looked at him."

"I don't know what you mean."

Don't you?"

Ciel met his gaze, confused by the carefully banked anger in his eyes, by the hard edge of jealousy in his voice.

"If you have plans for meeting him on the sly, put them out of your mind."

"My lord, you misjudge me!" Ciel exclaimed, shocked that he would even think such a thing. "I have no interest in the man."

"No?"

"No."

"Forgive me, sweet Ciel," Sebastian murmured, astonished by his reaction to the thought of Ciel being with another man. Never before had he been possessive of the men and women he brought home, but then, none had been as lovely, or as innocent as Ciel Phantomhive.

"Please don't be angry with me, my lord."

Sebastian blew out a long breath, and then reached for the boy's hands, kissing first one and then the other. "I could never be angry with you. Nor Viscount Druitt, either, I suppose. One can hardly blame the man for being attracted to you."

He kissed the back of his right hand again; and then, ever so slowly, he removed the glove from Ciel's right hand, bent his head down and licked the boy's palm.

Ciel gasped as a rush of potent heat shot up his arm.

Heart pounding, he met Sebastian's gaze, felt the fire burning in his eyes engulf him. "My lord…"

Slowly, inexorably, he drew the boy into his arms. Slanting his mouth over Ciel's, he kissed him, his teeth grazing Ciel's lips, his tongue exploring the soft inner flesh of the boy's mouth, until Ciel was breathless, almost dizzy from the tumult of emotions swirling through him. Ciel felt his skin tingle, every nerve ending vitally alive. Hardly aware of what he was doing, Ciel leaned into him, a soft moan rising in his throat.

"Ciel, ah, Ciel." Sebastian groaned softly. "Do you know what you are doing to me?" His hands slid up and down Ciel's back, erratic as the beating of the young boy's heart.

Sebastian drew him more fully against him, his lips raining kisses on Ciel's eyes, the tip of his nose, the curve of him cheek. His tongue laved the boy's neck, Ciel felt his teeth nibble at his earlobe, then graze the tender flesh beneath his ear.

A low groan rumbled deep in Sebastian's throat and then, abruptly he pushed Ciel away.

Dazed, Ciel blinked at him. Then leaned toward him, wanting him to kiss him again, to continue the strange magic his touch wrought upon his senses.

"Don't." The tone of his voice had the effect of a slap.

With a muffled cry, Ciel scooted into the corner, his heart pounding wildly – not with desire, but trepidation. What had he done? Why was Sebastian looking at him like that, his eyes burning yet cold?

The rest of the journey passed in silence. Ciel kept his gaze downcast, his hands tightly folded in his lap.

When they reached home, Sebastian practically flew out of the carriage. Ciel stared after him, wanting to call him back, but Sebastian was swallowed up by the darkness so fast it was almost as if he had vanished completely.

Meirin handed him from the carriage, then preceded him into the castle, lighting the lamps in the downstairs rooms.

"Would you care for a cup of tea, sir?" she asked, "or some cocoa, perhaps?"

"Cocoa, please. I'll take it in the parlor."

"As you wish."  
Removing his cloak and remaining glove, Ciel went into the parlor and sat down on the sofa, trying to comprehend what had happened in the carriage. He was new to desire, but certainly he had not been mistaking in thinking Sebastian wanted him. Heaven knew he had wanted Sebastian, would have surrendered his virtue there, in the carriage, had he not thrust him away. Had he done something to displease Sebastian, and if so, what?

"Would you care for a fire, sir?" Meirin asked. She handed him the cup of hot chocolate.

"Yes, please. It's quite chilly in here."

Meirin nodded, and then turned away to see to the fire.

"Has Lord Sebastian come in yet?" he asked.

"No. I shouldn't wait up for him if I were you.

"Do you know where he's gone?"

Meirin hesitated. "No, Will that be all?"

"Yes, Meirin. Thank you."

"Good night, then."

"Good night."

Staring into the flames, Ciel sipped the cocoa, feeling it relax him. Funny how life turned out, he mused. He had been afraid to come to this place, afraid to leave home, afraid of Sebastian, yet all his fears had proven groundless. There was nothing to fear in the castle. He had food to eat and beautiful clothes to wear. He had learned to read and write, to appreciate poetry, to play the pianoforte, to paint. Even his fear of Sebastian had been unjustified. Until the last few weeks, he had hardly seen him at all. Sometimes, it seemed as though Sebastian was afraid of him.

Putting the cup aside, Ciel tucked his feet beneath him. Why had Sebastian brought him here? If he didn't want him for a mistress(of sorts) or a house-maid, what did he want him for? So far, he had done nothing to earn the money Sebastian had paid for him.

Sebastian. Why wasn't he married? He was rich, he was handsome. Even the scar on his cheek couldn't detract from his good looks. Just being near him made him come alive, made his blood run hot and his stomach quiver with longing. Surely bedding him would not be a hardship in spite of what his mother had said about such things…

Heat that had nothing to do with the warmth of the flames suffused his cheeks at his wayward thoughts. With a sigh he closed his eyes, summoning Sebastian's image to mind, his beautiful dark hair, his red eyes that could burn him with a look, his full lips…

He felt his body tingle in every place where Sebastian had touched him. If only Sebastian hadn't pushed him away.

Sebastian stood at the foot of the sofa, watching Ciel sleep. His hair had fallen in his face. He sighed in his sleep, his sweet pink lips curving into a smile that was both sweet and seductive. Of what, or of whom, was he dreaming? Unable to resist, Sebastian knelt beside him, staring at the slow steady beat of the pulse at the base of his throat. Sebastian closed his eyes and took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of him. He smelled of soap and perfume and powder, of the roast beef and Yorkshire pudding he had eaten for dinner, of cocoa. He place his fingertips over the pulse in Ciel's throat, felt the blood thrumming through his veins, felt his own mouth water as he remembered the warm, sweet, coppery taste.

Even before he opened his eyes, he knew Ciel was awake and watching him. He heard the change in his breathing, the escalation of the boy's heartbeat.

"My lord," he murmured. "I'm sorry if I did something to offend you."

"Offend me?"

"In the carriage."

"You did nothing amiss, sweet Ciel."

"You weren't hurting me." Heat climbed up his neck and into his cheeks. "Quite the opposite, my lord."

"Ah, child," Sebastian murmured, stroking his cheek. "If you only knew."

"Knew what?"

"Nothing. I would not frighten you with my past, or bore you with my present."

"I don't understand."

"There is no need for you to understand. All you need to know is that you please me very well."

"Then won't you kiss me again?" Ciel saw the refusal in his eyes and pressed his fingertips over Sebastian's lips. "Just one kiss, my lord."

Taking Ciel's hand away from his mouth, he kissed his palm. When he looked at the boy again, there was a glint of amusement in Sebastian's dark eyes. "Would it please you so much?"

"Oh, yes."

"One kiss, and then you must go to bed."

Ciel nodded, his eyelids fluttering down as Sebastian's lips met his. There was such sweetness in his kiss, such longing. Unwilling for Sebastian to leave him, he wrapped his arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, hoping he would know how much he wanted him.

Sebastian's arms tightened around Ciel, and he lifted him off the sofa, cradling the boy in his lap, his mouth ravishing Ciel's in a most delightful way.

Ciel was drowning in pleasure, melting with desire, and then, into his mind came a vision of darkness, and yet it wasn't darkness as he knew it, but a total absence of light, and interwoven with the darkness was an awareness of pain and anguish so vivid it felt like his pain, his anguish.

He squirmed in Sebastian's embrace, felt his arms tighten around him. He tried to open his eyes, but the darkness increased, and Ciel felt himself being engulfed in the horrible blackness…

"Ciel?"

"No. No, no…please."

"Ciel, open your eyes. There's nothing to fear."

Ciel blinked at him, feeling as though he had just emerged from a waking nightmare. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"But…"

"It was only a dream, my sweet, nothing more."

"But I was awake!"

"No. You fell asleep in my arms." Sebastian looked down at him, his smile strained, his eyes dark and compelling. "To bed with you, I think." He said, and stood up, carrying Ciel with him as though he weighed nothing at all.

"I can walk, my lord."

"No need."

Effortlessly Sebastian carried him up the long flight of stairs to Ciel's room. "Rest well, sweet Ciel."

"Good night, my lord."

Sebastian bowed his head, then left the room, his long black cloak swirling around his ankles like smoke.


	8. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Sunk in the depths of a black and bitter despair, Sebastian stood before the hearth, staring into the flames. He could not keep him here any longer, could not put his life at risk. It was enough that he stole the very essence of Ciel's life. He would not take his heart and soul, as well.

And yet, how could he let him go? He had walked often in Ciel's dreams, losing himself in the boy's sweetness, his purity. In the power of Ciel's dreams, he could walk in the sun again; feel its warmth on his face. He could see the world bathed in light instead of darkness. Walking beside Ciel, he could pretend he was human again, a man again.

Ciel was dreaming now, and in his dreams he walked along the banks of a sparkling blue river, pausing to pick a bright yellow daisy, to wade in the sun-dappled water, and Sebastian walked beside him, feeling the sunlight like a benediction on his face.

He drew his mind from Ciel's. It was dangerous, letting his thoughts meld with the boys. It was getting harder and harder to restrain himself, to keep his hunger under control, to keep his diabolical thirst separate from his desire. He could not, would not, defile Ciel.

With a sigh, he turned away from the fire.

Tonight would be the last time.

He was there, beside Ciel's bed, the same dark shape that had come to him so often in the past. A black velvet cloak lined with midnight-blue silk billowed around him, like the wings of a raven. Ciel could not see his face, yet Ciel recognized his touch.

Ciel felt his lips move over his cheek, his temple, felt the heart of his tongue, trailing fire, as it slid down his neck. Ciel turned his head to the side, his hands grasping Sebastian's arms, his eyelids closing in ecstasy as Sebastian's teeth grazed his tender flesh.

He heard Sebastian's low growl, like that of a wolf, felt the painful, pleasurable bite of his teeth, followed by the touch of his tongue stroking his neck. And then came the words, oddly familiar, soft-spoken hypnotic words that carried him down, down, into the darkness of a dreamless sleep…

Ciel woke with a cry, bolting upright in bed. His gaze darted around the room.

It was dawn, and he was alone.

And yet, the dream had seemed so real. He lifted a trembling hand to his neck, terrified of what he would find. His breath rushed from his lungs in a sigh of relief when his fingers encountered nothing but smooth skin.

Weak with relief, he fell back on the pillow. There were no teeth marks on his neck.

It had only been a dream, after all.

He woke to the sound of a knock on his door. He first thought that it was Sebastian, and then he heard Meirin's voice requesting entrance.

"Yes," he called. "Come in."

"Good morning, sir." Meirin said in her carefully modulated voice.

"Good morning. Is something wrong?"

"Wrong? No, sir. I've come to inform you that lord Sebastian has made arrangements for you to go to Paris."

"Paris? But why?"

"You are to be tutored there. It seems lord Sebastian feels I have taught you all I can. He wishes for you to be instructed in more than merely reading and writing. He wishes for you to be taught etiquette and acquire other arts."

Ciel could only stare at her. To his knowledge, no teen in their town had even received a formal education, though a few fortunate ones could read and write their names.

For a moment, he let himself be caught up in the possibilities, and then he shook his head. "I don't want to leave here."

"I'm sorry, sir. The arrangements have been made."

"How soon?"

"Sunday a week, sir. Lord Sebastian has instructed me to take you to town to purchase whatever you think you might need. An account has been opened in your name in the bank near the school."

"He is most generous." He said, blinking back his tears.

"I have always found him so."

"Thank you, Meirin."

"Breakfast will be ready when you are."

Ciel shook his head. "I find I have no appetite this morning."

"I understand, sir."

He was going away to school. It was something he had never even dared dream of. Yet the thought of leaving this place, of leaving Sebastian, filled him with inexplicable sadness.

The days passed all too quickly, and soon it was his last night at the castle. After the evening they had spent at the opera, he had expected Sebastian to seek him out, but he never did.

That night, at supper, he asked Meirin if Sebastian was at home.

"I believe so, sir."

"Would you take me to him?"

"I'm afraid that's impossible."

"Why?"

"Because it is."

"But I'm leaving in the morning. I just want to tell him good-bye and…and thank him for his kindness."

"I know, sir. I am sorry."

She meant it. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice.

Leaving the table, he went outside. He would miss this place, he thought as he wandered through the gardens. He had been happy here. Far happier than he had ever expected. He wondered how his mother was, if his sisters ever thought of him. No doubt they missed his help in the house and fields. But did they ever miss _him_? He had not missed them as much as he thought he would. In truth, he had hardly thought of his family at all these past months. To think of them living in poverty while he dwelt in luxury was far too painful. The few times he had let himself think of home, he had been filled with an overpowering sense of guilt, though why that should be so, he didn't know. He had not left his family by choice. And yet, being sold to Sebastian had turned out far better than he had ever hoped. He had long ago forgiven his father for selling him. Sebastian had been kind to him, generous, undemanding.

Hardly aware of what he was doing, he followed the path that led to the labyrinth. It didn't frighten him anymore. Drawing his jacket around himself tighter, he walked on until he reached the heart of the labyrinth.

Sebastian looked up, startled to find Ciel gazing down at him.

He slanted the boy a wry grin. "No mortal has ever crept up on me like that before." He remarked.

"No mortal?" Ciel asked, confused by his odd choice of words.

"Thank you for this." He said ignoring Ciel's question. He gestured at all the roses and shrubs that grew in artless profusion around the statues so that the wolf and the raven seemed to rise up out of a crimson sea. "It's beautiful."

Ciel nodded. He had spent the past week here, wanting to leave something of himself behind, something for him to remember. He had planted dozens of blood red rosebushes interspersed with delicate lacy ferns. The result was striking and somehow masculine. He thought it suited Sebastian perfectly.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," he said quietly.

"I know." Oh, yes, Sebastian thought, he knew. Even now the thought of Ciel going was tearing him apart inside.

"Why are you sending me away?"

"It's for the best."

"Best for who?"

"For you. For me."

"I don't want to go."

Sebastian stood up, his dark eyes glowing. He was tall and lean, his shoulders broad. Ciel noticed that the scar on his cheek was shaped like a V. Funny, he had never noticed before.

Following an inexplicable urge, he traced the faded white line with his fingertip, felt a catch in his heart as Sebastian's hand covered his.

"Ciel."

"Please, Sebastian, please don't send me away."

"Ah, Ciel, I would keep you with me forever if I could."

"And I would stay. Only ask me to stay, and I will."

Sebastian shook his head. "No."

His hand tightened on the boy's as tears welled in Ciel's eyes and trickled down his cheeks. In the moonlight, his tears sparkled like flawless diamonds, but they were far more precious to him than jewels. They denoted caring and affection, willingly given, and for that Sebastian would always love him. And because he loved the boy, he would let him go.

"Someday you will thank me for this, sweet Ciel."

"No," he said, sobbing.

Ciel twisted away from him, his blue eyes awash with tears. "I'll never forgive you. Never!" he cried, and then he was running away from Sebastian, taking the sunlight from his life, leaving him in the vast empty darkness of the night, alone, as he had always been alone.

Sebastian contemplated leaving the castle, certain he could not stay there now, could not walk the rooms Ciel had walked, breathe the air he had breathed, and know he would never see the boy again.

He would have to leave soon at any rate. He had overheard the men in Cotyer's talking about him, wondering why they never saw him during the day, why he never joined them for dinner, why his appearance never changed, why he didn't seem to age.

And yet, even knowing he should go, he knew he would not. The castle was filled with Ciel's essence, and as painful as it would be to be reminded of him, it was better than forgetting.

He laughed softly, bitterly. As if he could ever forget.


	9. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

_London, 1847_

Blinking back tears, Ciel stood at his father's graveside. he had left the convent school as soon as he received word that his father was dying, but he had arrived too late to bid him a last good-bye. Standing there, he remembered how kind and happy he had always been when he was a little boy, before times got hard and the laughter had forever left his eyes. Once, Ciel had thought his calloused and unfeeling. And even though he had understood his reasons, he had hated his father for selling him to Sebastian, but he had forgiven him for that a long time ago. He wished he had told him so. he murmured the words under his breath, hoping his father could hear them.

Ciel glanced at his sisters, who stood on the opposite side of the grave. They had grown from pretty little girls to lovely young women since he had last seen them. Elizabeth, the eldest, was engaged to be married in the spring. Sebastian had given her a generous dowry that would enable her and her future husband to buy a small piece of land and build a home of their own.

Ciel had been surprised to see how well they all looked. Their clothes were new and fashionable. The cottage, once little more than a hovel, was in good repair. Two large rooms had been added. A small stable had been built behind the cottage. It housed three milk cows, a goat, a sheep and two fine houses. When he'd questioned his mother about the changes in their circumstances, she had explained that Lord Sebastian had refurbished the cottage and built the barn. Each year he sent a generous allowance.

"It was so good of you to think of our needs, Ciel." his mother had said. "especially when your father sent you away."

"I had nothing to do with it," Ciel had replied, though of course, in a way, he had.

"But why else would he do such a thing?" his mother had asked. "We are nothing to him."

Sebastian had done it because of him, Ciel thought, and knew he could never repay Sebastian for his kindness to his family, for the education Sebastian had provided him. the graveside service was brief. When the last prayer had been said, his mother dropped a handful of earth on the simple wooden coffin, and then each daughter, starting with the youngest, did the same. Ciel knew it was a sound he would never forget. Putting his arm around his mother's shoulders, he led her away from the grave. Back at the cottage, Ciel brewed a pot of tea, then sat at the table across from his mother.

Ciel picked up his cup, holding it in both hands, hoping the warmth would ease the coldness that he'd felt inside ever since he left the convent.

"How is Lord Sebastian?" he asked after a while.

"How should I know? I heard he left the castle shortly after he sent you to Paris."

"He's not here?"

The coldness that had invaded his body now crept into his heart. Sebastian was gone. For four years, he had dreamed of seeing him again. Such a short time they had spent together, yet Sebastian had been in his thoughts every hour of every day, in his every dream at night.

"An odd man, that one," Ciel's mother mused. "I only saw him once." she shivered. "Such cold eyes. Never have I seen such cold eyes."

"Cold?" Ciel shook his head. Sebastian ahd not seemed cold to him. Lonely. Isolated. But not cold. Ciel had seen the warmth in those eyes. The heat of desire. The flame of passion.

"Did he say where he was going? When he'd be back?"  
"Not that I recall." Ciel's mother sipped her tea. "Did he...Forgive me, Ciel. I said I wouldn't ask, but I must know. Did he defile you, child?"  
"No, Mother. He was kind to me."  
"Kind?"

Ciel nodded. "I had the best of everything. while I was with him. He sent me to the best school in Paris, made sure that I had new clothes every year. I was the only boy who had a room of his own. He sent me an allowance each month so I would have spending money of my own. In truth, he has been most generous to me. And to you, it seems."

"Aye. It's glad I am that you're back, child. Have you come home to stay?"

Ciel thought of what it would be like to live in the village again. He would miss Paris, miss his companions at school. But this was Sebastian's home. Surely one day he would return. And he would be here when he did.

"Yes," he decided, "I'm here to stay..." And knew that he would have stayed in any case. His mother had never been strong; now she looked frail.

She smiled. Setting her cup on the table, she stood up. "I'm tired. I think I'll go lie down for a while."

"Rest well, mother."

"Welcome home, son." Giving Ciel an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder, she left the room.

His sisters came in then. Elizabeth, the eldest, was now 17. And Hanna had just turned 12. Subdued by the funeral, they sat at the table, reminiscing about their father, remembering the good times and ignoring the bad.

"He never forgave himself for what he did to you," Elizabeth remarked. "Even though the money Lord Sebastian paid him put food on our table." She paused, her fingers toying with the sash of her dress. "Was it awful, living with Lord Sebastian?"

"No." Ciel glanced around the cottage. How different it looked. And yet, even though it was now clean and well-equipped, it still looked like a hovel when compared to the castle's opulent furnishings. He spent the evening with his mother and sisters, reminiscing about old times, listening to their plans for the future. Later, when everyone else had gone to bed, Ciel saddled one of the horses and rode to Castle Rayven. The castle was as he remembered it, a stark and lonely sentinel looming over the town. The mist, ever constant, shrouded Devil tree mountain, so that only the tallest spires were visible from a distance.

He wasn't there. Ciel knew that, yet he needed to see the castle again, to walk through the gardens, to say good-bye...

Dismounting at the side gate, Ciel tethered the horse to a tree, opened the gate and stepped into the garden. Gone were the beautiful flowers he had planted, the shrubs, the roses. The trees, once flourishing, were dry skeletons.

Heavy hearted, Ciel wandered up and down the narrow twisting paths. All his hard work gone for naught.

Only the maze remained, standing stark and green against the gray stone walls. With a sigh, Ciel made his way back to the side gate and took up his horse's reins. It was time to go. Everything he had planted, everything he had once hoped for, was gone, like a bad dream.

Ciel was here. Cloaked in the shadows of never-ending night, he watched Ciel walk along the moonlit paths. He had changed in the last four years. He had matured, and moved with grace and self-assurance, and he watched Ciel with a sense of pride, knowing that he, was in part, responsible for what Ciel had become, though his inner beauty had always been there.

_Ciel_. His name rose in his mind, chasing away centuries of darkness. _Ciel...why have you returned? Come to torment me anew? To remind me of what I can never be? Ciel...beloved...how I have yearned for you...dreamed of you...Ciel..._

"My lord?" Ciel turned around, expecting to see Sebastian standing behind him, his dark cloak swirling around him like smoke, but there was no one there.

Confused, Ciel peered into the shadows. He had heard Sebastian's voice so clearly, he could not have imagined it. Dropping the horse's reins, he hurried along the narrow brick path that led to the front of the castle and pounded on the door.

He waited. And listened. And knocked again. After what seemed and interminable length of time, the door creaked open. "Good evening, sir," Meirin said.

"Meirin! What are you doing here?" she looked much the same, he thought, though her hair seemed more faded than before, thinner with the passage of time.

She lifted on brow. "Why, I live here, sir."

"But I thought Lord Sebastian had gone."

Meirin cocked her head to one side, and he had the strangest impression that she was listening to a voice only she could hear.

"Meirin? He is gone, isn't he?"

"Yes, sir. He left soon after you departed for Paris."

"You didn't go with him?"

"No, sir. My place is here."

"Is he...Will he be coming back, do you think?"

"I cannot say, sir. Might I ask why you left Paris?"

"My father died. I came home for the funeral."

"I am sorry, Sir Ciel. Please accept my condolences."

"Thank you Meirin." With a sigh, he turned to go, and then he paused. "Are you quite certain he's not here?"

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason, I mean, that is, I thought I heard him call my name."

Meirin blinked at him, astonishment evident in her eyes. "You heard his voice?"

Ciel nodded. "At least I thought I did. He...he sounded so sad. I suppose I must have imagined it."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I'd better be going. If you hear from Lord Sebastian, please give him my best, and my thanks for being so kind to my family."

"I will, sir. And may I say that Paris must have agreed with you, for you have become a lovely young man. I know Lord Sebastian would be pleased."

"Thank you, Meirin. Good night."

"Good night, sir."

Shoulders sagging, Ciel walked down the steps to collect the horse. It was sheer nonsense, of course, thinking he heard Sebastian's voice. It was only that he had missed him so much these past four years. Missed him, and dreamed of him.

Standing at the side gate, Ciel looked up at the windows of the east tower. "Sebastian," he whispered, "I know you're here."

Hidden in the shadows of a lonely tower room, a man clad in the darkness of the night heard Ciel's plea, and wept blood red tears.

Ciel went back the next night, and the next, wandering through the gardens for an hour, hoping Sebastian would come to him, hoping he would feel Sebastian's presence and know he was there.

But Sebastian did not seek him out.

Sometimes, as now, Ciel sat on one of the stone benches, lost in thought as he gazed up at the east tower, wondering at the overpowering urge that brought him to this place night after night, the certainty that Sebastian was nearby. Strange, Ciel had no desire to come here during the day. Was it because he had never seen Sebastian when the sun was up? What a puzzle Sebastian was, a man as dark and mysterious as the night itself.

Rising, Ciel walked toward the maze, his heartbeat increasing as he drew nearer.

"There's nothing in there to be afraid of." he spoke the words aloud, hoping to bolster his flagging courage. "There's nothing there in the darkness that isn't there in the light." Yet, even as the words left his lips, he wondered if that was true. Straightening his shoulders, Ciel took a deep breath and stepped into the maze. Greenery rose all around him, enfolding him, embracing him. Feeling as is he were being guided by an unseen hand, Ciel went steadily onward, anticipation quickening his footsteps, until he reached the heart of the labyrinth.

Ciel came to an abrupt halt as he glanced around. He had expected the roses within the maze to be dead, like the ones in the gardens, but the bushes here were full and green. His gaze lingered on the statues, the bronze wolf and the black raven captured forever in metal and marble.

Shivering, Ciel wrapped his arms around his waist. There was something ominous about the statues tonight. He had the eerie feeling that the wolf and the raven were watching him, waiting for a chance to pounce. Ciel was turning away when he saw a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. He glanced over his shoulder, his mind telling him that he was imagining things again.

But it wasn't his imagination this time.

Sebastian materialized out of the shadows near the statue of the wolf, the moonlight shining in his thick black hair, his cloak enfolding him like a living thing.

"My lord," Ciel murmured, suddenly breathless.

"Good evening, Ciel." His tongue lingered over Ciel's name, drawing it out, making Ciel shiver, as though Sebastian had caressed him.

"You're here." Ciel glanced at the statue of the wolf. It looked different somehow. "Meirin said you weren't here."

"Why are _you_ here, sweet Ciel?"

"My father..."

Sebastian shook his head. "I know why you have come home. Why are you _here_?"

"I missed you, my lord. Being here, on the castle grounds, made you seem less far away."

"You missed me?"

Ciel nodded. "You find that so hard to believe?"

Sebastian laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. "I find it impossible to believe."

"'Tis true, nonetheless. I am sorry if it displeases you."

"It does not displease me, sweet Ciel." Sebastian replied quietly. "How long will you be here?"

"At the castle?"

"In London."

"Oh. I've come home to stay."

"No. You must not."

Ciel looked at him, surprised by the vehemence in his voice. "It seems my presence displeases you as much as my honesty, my lord."

"Nothing about you displeases me, sweet Ciel. It is only your well-being I am thinking of."

"My lord?"

"Your future, Ciel. I would see you wed to a beautiful young woman worthy of you."

"You wish me to marry?"

"Is it not your wish, also?"

"Yes, of course, but..."

Sebastian's gaze held his. "But?"

"I don't want ot marry for wealth, my lord, but for love."

"Love." The word was a whisper, a wish unfulfilled, a dream unborn.

"Have you never been in love, my lord?"

Slowly, Sebastian shook his head, his dark eyes filled with such pain, such stark loneliness, that Ciel wanted to weep. Was it only Ciel's imagination, or did his cloak seem to wrap more closely around him, as if to comfort him?

"And you?" Sebastian asked. "Have you, in your few short years of life, found love?"

"Aye, my lord, though I fear he does not return my affection."

"Then he is a fool!"

A faint smile curved Ciel's lips. "On that, at least, we are agreed."

Sebastian fought back his anger. The urge to destroy the cur who failed to return Ciel's love rose up within him, and with it an all-consuming jealousy. "Who is this man?"

"Can you not guess?" Ciel replied, his voice hardly more than a whisper.

Sebastian closed his eyes, pain ripping through him. If he survived another four hundred years, he would never forget this moment, the love shining bright and clear in Ciel's eyes, the wonder of it. A long shuddering sigh escaped him, and then he opened his eyes.

"Go away from here, Ciel," Sebastian said, his voice brusque, his eyes as cold as black ice. "Leave my house and never come back."

Ciel recoiled as if Sebastian had slapped him. the hurt in his eyes scorching Sebastian's soul.

"Be gone," Sebastian said. "Pray I never see you again."

"As you wish, my lord," Ciel said, and turning on his heel, he fled his presence without a backward glance.

Behind Ciel, a black wolf lifted it melancholy cry to the night.


	10. Chapter 9

Thank you for all your reviews ^^

Not guna be able to update until I can get word again.

CHAPTER NINE

He cried for hours after he returned home, and all the while he berated himself for his foolishness. Sebastian had never led him to believe he was anything more than mildly fond of him. He had amused Sebastian with his naiveté, nothing more. He had laid his heart bare, and Sebastian had scorned it, and him. He would not humiliate himself in such a fashion again. And he would marry for love, or he would not marry at all, clinging to that thought he fell asleep.

_The maze rose up in the night, a twisting wall of greenery that separated him from the rest of the world. Drawn into its heart, he collapsed near the statue of the bronze wolf. He drew a deep breath and was filled with the scent of roses. Only then did he notice that they were no longer red. Dozens of blooms grew on the trees, but they were all black._

_Curious, he picked one, gasping as a thorn pricked his finger. A drop of bright red blood oozed from the wound, and suddenly Sebastian was there, his dark eyes ablaze with an unholy light as he took Ciel's hand in his and slowly licked the blood from his finger…_

"No!" The sound of his own horrified cry roused him from sleep and he sat up, glancing wildly around the room. "Only a dream," he whispered as he snuggled under the covers again. "Only a dream." The familiar words hovered in the back of his mind.

"Only a dream…"

He closed his eyes but sleep eluded him. With a restless sigh, he sat up and gazed out the window, his mind filling with images of Sebastian as he had seen him last, his fathomless black eyes filled with torment he was lonely, so lonely. Why? He was a handsome man. A wealthy man. Why did he not marry and raise a family? Why did he live in that cold, lonely castle? Why had he sent him away?

He had learned much in the four years he had been away. He had, on occasions flirted with young women. In Paris, he had learned the power of a shy smile, a come-hitcher look, he knew when a woman or man wanted him. And Sebastian wanted him. He had wanted him from the beginning. Why, then, had he turned him away? Why had he bought him in the first place? He had assumed Sebastian wanted him to warm his bed. He wondered now if he had been bought simply for companionship. But surely a man like Sebastian had no need to purchase companionship. He thought about all the strange rumors he had heard about him, about his peculiar habits. Since returning home, he had overheard other things, stories told in hushed whispers that hinted at evil, at bargains made with the devil. Was it possible that the people of this town believed such outrageous tales? His friends and neighbors were a humble, superstitious people, frightened of what they didn't understand, of what couldn't easily be explained.

Snuggling under the covers once more, he closed his eyes. As much as he had loved Paris he was not going back. This was his home. This was where he belonged, and he would not let anyone, not even the master of Castle Rayven, chase him away.

The next day was market day, with his mother's list in hand, Ciel took the carriage Sebastian had brought for his family and went into town. It was good to see familiar country faces again. Because of Sebastians' generosity, he was able to purchase fresh bread, prime cuts of meat, and a bottle of fine red wine. He was sitting in the window of a tearoom, wondering if Sebastian would haunt his thoughts forever, when he saw Viscount Druitt. He saw Ciel at the same time. Tipping his hat, he crossed the road, a broad smile on his face. He was as handsome as he recalled. Several women turned to stare at him, their gazes admiring. "Good afternoon, Sir Phantomhive." He bowed over Ciel's hand. "May I join you?"

"Please do."

"It's been a long time." Druitt said. His gaze moved over Ciel, warm with affection and approval. "Your stay in Paris seems to have agreed with you."

"Thank you, my lord." Ciel replied, acutely aware of the admiration in his eyes.

"I was sorry to hear about your father," the Viscount said. "Is there anything I can do for you or your family?"

"No, thank you. Lord Sebastian has been most generous."

"Indeed." the Viscount sat back in his chair. "Are you returning to France soon?"

Ciel shook his head. "No. As much as I loved Paris, I've decided to stay here. It's home after all." _And Sebastian is here_

A slow smile spread over the Viscount's face. "That's good news indeed," he said. "There's a new play at the theater. I'd like very much to take you."

"Would you?"

The Viscount chuckled softly. "If you'd like to go. And if you think you could tolerate my company for the evening."

"I should like that very much indeed." Ciel replied. In truth, it would be no hardship to spend time with Viscount Druitt. With his light blonde hair and blue eyes, he was quite the most blatantly handsome man he had ever met, and he had met many during the last four years. "Good. I shall pick you up Saturday at six."

"I'll be ready."

"Very well." Rising to his feet, he took Ciel's hand in his. "I hate to leave you, but I have a business appointment." He kissed Ciel's hand. "Til Saturday next, Sir Phantomhive."

"Til Saturday."

Viscount Druitt arrived at six o'clock sharp. Ciel grinned openly as he introduced him to his family. One and all, they stared at him, hardly able to speak coherently as he bowed over their hands. Even his mother seemed awestruck. "I'm sorry about my family." Ciel remarked later, in the carriage. "They've never met anyone quite like you. My sister asked if you were a prince."

"And what did you tell her?"

"Why, I said you were, of course."

Druitt laughed softly as he took Ciel's hand in his and gave it a squeeze. "Hardly that."

For a time, they rode in silence. The Viscount studdied the boy beside him. He was even more beautiful than he remembered. Four years at school had refined him, given him an aura of self-confidence that he had lacked before. He thought of little else during the play. There was only one drawback that he could see, and that was the fact that everyone in the valley knew Ciel's father had sold him to Sebastian, that Ciel lived in his house. Druitt didn't care a whit what the people of the Valley thought, but it would likely cause a stir should his family find out. But he would jump that fence when he came to it. After the play, he took Ciel out for a late supper. Ciel continued to charm him with his openness, his candor. Flirting came naturally to the boy; it wasn't something he had learned at school, or studied in front of his looking glass. By the time his carriage drew up outside Ciel's home, his decision had been made.

"Thank you for a lovely evening." Ciel said.

"It was my pleasure." Druitt replied gallantly. He kissed Ciel's hand and then, unable to help himself, he drew him into his arms and kissed him.

Ciel closed his eyes as Druitt's lips touched his. It was a pleasent kiss, gentle, tender. Unbidden came the thought that, while Viscount Druitt's kiss was pleasurable, it had no fire. Comparing Druitt's kiss to Sebastian's was like comparing the warmth of a firefly to the warmth of the sun. His arms tightened around Ciel breifly before he let him go. "Will I see you tomorrow night?"

"If you wish."

"Seven?"

Ciel nodded.

"Good night, Sir Phantomhive."

"Good night, my lord."

He came for Ciel promptly at seven the following evening, and every night for a week thereafter. They went to a ball at Lord Trancy's, to supper in the city, to another play, to the opera. As much as he enjoyed Druitt's company, he couldn't help feeling that he didn't belong in the crowed he associated with. They dined with barons and counts. On the outside he knew he looked as though he belonged. The outfits Sebastian had bought him were every bit as costly and fashionable as those of the other boys. Thanks to the training he had recieved at the convent, he knew how to behave at the dinner table, which fork to use with which course, but on the inside, he was still a country boy, unsure of himself, in awe of the highborn men and women who were Druitt's contemporaries. He said as much one night, at supper.

"Nonsense," Druitt exclaimed. "There's no shame in being born poor."

"But..."

"I'll hear no more of it," Druitt said firmly. He took Ciel's hand in his. "You're more beautiful than any of them, Ciel. You have no need to feel inferior simply because your father was a farmer and not an earl. Don't forget, Alois wasn't always an earl. Not all of us are born into our titles."

Ciel smiled at him, reassured, at least for the moment. "Will I see you tomorrow night?" he asked.

Druitt shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I've agreed to meet Trancy and Michaelis at Cotyer's."

The mere mention of his name caused a sharp pain in Ciel's heart.

"Is something wrong?" Druitt asked. "You look pale of a sudden."

"I feel a headache coming on," Ciel said apologetically. "Would you mind if we went home?"

"Of course not." He summoned the waiter, took care of the bill, and wrapped Ciel's cloak around his shoulders. Minutes later Ciel was comfortably settled in Druitt's coach. He closed his eyes to discourage any conversation and all the while, in the back of his mind, he heard Druitt's voice telling him he was meeting Sebastian tomorrow night. He wished he had the nerve to follow Druitt to Cotyer's so that he might see Sebastian again, if only from a distance. He bid the Vidcount good night and went into the house. Standing at the window, he watched his coach pull away. Overcome by a terrible sadness, he removed his cloak and went into the bedroom hannah. The Viscount cared for him. He might even ask his hand in marriage, but Ciel knew he would never love him as he loved Sebastian. Why had he sent him away? After living at the convent in Paris, he understood what it was like to be lonely, to be different from those around you. He knew, rfom the rumors he had heard, from things Sebastian himself had said, that he felt enstranged from society, though Ciel didn't understand why. Was there some incident in his past that made him feel inferior?

He told himself it didn't matter, that he didn't care. Sebastian had sent him away, first to Paris, and then away from the castle, sent him away and told him, nay, warned him, never to return.

So be it, he thought, blinking back tears he refused to shed. If Sebastian didn't want him, he knew someone who did.

At the invitation of Lord Trancy, The Viscount escorted Ciel to a masquerade ball at Trancy Hall the next week. Druitt dressed as Robin Hood, complete with bow and feathered arrived at eight, had supper at nine. It was after ten when Druitt led him into the ball room. A huge crystal chandelier cast soft candlelight over the dancers. The orchestra was partially hidden behind a wall of lacy ferns. He danced with Druitt, and with Trancy, and then with Druitt again. The Viscount flirted with him shamelessly, declaring his to be the most beautiful person in the room. His hand caressed his shoulders, his lips brushed his cheeks.

Light-headed from too much wine, feeling lonely because Sebastian had rejected him, he allowed Druitt to kiss him. He even kissed him back, telling himself it didn't matter. Sebastian didn't want him. He had even told Ciel to marry someone else. Why not marry Druitt? He was young and handsome and rich, and he adored him. He would never send him away. At the end of the dance, The viscount left for a moment to fetch Ciel a glass of champagne. Feeling suddenly warm, Ciel left the crush inside the ballroom and went out onto the balcony that overlooked a rather exotic topiary. A breeze ruffled his hair and cooled his cheeks. Away off in the distance, he could see the tall spires of Castle Rayven. In spite of his resolution to put him from his mind, he wondered what Sebastian was doing, if he ever spared a thought for him. A sudden chill caressed his nape, and with it the sense that he was no longer alone. Ciel whirled around, gasping when he saw a tall man standing in the doorway. He was dressed all in black save for the stark white maskthat covered his face. A black hat adorned with a curling black feather was pulled low over his brow. A cloak of fine black velvet billowed around him.

He held out his hand. "May I have this dance?"

His voice caressed Ciel, calling up images of rosed and moonlit nights. He never thought to refuse him, but willingly placed his hand in his. The man held him close, his body brushing intimately with Ciels at every turn. Trapped in the web of his gaze, Ciel let him waltz him around the balcony. The music faded into the distance. The crush of people inside the ballroom ceased to exist. There was only the two of them, dancing beneath a sky sprinkled with stars, and the awareness that crackled between them, as sharp as a sliver of glass. Ciel gazed into his eyes, fathomless dark red eyes that stared back at him, eyes that burned with hell's own fires.

Suddenly breathless, Ciel murmured his name. The mans arms tightened around his waist, drawing Ciel closer. Ciels body burned at his nearness; his heart was pounding furiously.

Was it he?

It had to be.

Slowly, The man lowered his head towards his, until the dark eyes blazing from behind the mask burned everything else from his sight, until Ciel saw nothing, was aware of nothing, but the man who held him. Cie lifted his face for his kiss, felt the touch of his cool lips scorch a bright path to the very heart and soul of him. When he drew his mouth from the boys, Ciel stared up at him, a curious lethargy stealing through his limbs. If not for the strength of the arms around him, he thought he might have melted at the man's feet, like butter left too long in the sun. Ciel wasn't aware that the music had ended until he saw Druitt standing in the doorway. Ciel's partner bowed over his hand and then, his cloak swirling about him like smoke, he walked away from him to disappear in the darkness at the far end of the balcony.

"Who was that?" Ciel asked, though he was certain, within his heart, that it had been Sebastian. Druitt glanced after the man in the black hat and cloak. "I don't know."

"I thought..."

"Thought what?"

"I thought it was Sebastian."

"Sebastian? Here?" The Viscount chuckled softly as he handed Ciel a glass of champagne. "He loaths masquerades. Loaths parties of any kind. I've never known him to attend one."

"Have you seen him at Coyter's recently?"

Druitt nodded. "Blast the man. He's impossible to beat, you know. Sometimes I tyhink he knows what cards I've been dealt before I do."

"Indeed?" Ciel stood on tiptoe , trying to see over the heads of the crowd."

"Come." Druitt said. He placed Ciel's glass on the balcony railing, then took the boys hand in his. "I believe this is my dance."

Ciel dreamed of Sebastian that night, dreamed that he came into his room, that he was standing beside his bed, his long black cloak enfolding him like loving arms, a hideous mask hiding his face. Not the white mask he had worn to the ball, but a mask with glowing bright red eyes and sharp white fangs dripping blood. He woke with a cry on his lips. Or was he still dreaming? He blinked into the darkness. Was he there, in the corner, or was that merely a shadow cast by the moonlight? Heart pounding, mouth dry, Ciel stared into the darkness of his room. "My lord?"

"Go to sleep, sweet Ciel."

"Let me see your face."

"You would not like what you see. Sleep now. Sleep, sleep, go to sleep..."

Ciel struggled to stay awake, but he could not resist the hypnotic sound of his voice. His limbs grew heavy; his eyelids refused to stay open. "Please come to me," Ciel begged, though it was an effort to think, to speak. "I know you're there."

"This is only a dream, Ciel, Only a dream..."

How could it be a dream, he wondered, if he was telling him to go to sleep? And then he was asleep, or was he merely dreaming he was asleep? Confused he tried to call his name, to climb out of the lethargy that was dragging her down, down, into nothingness... Hw woke determind to see him again. In spite of his resolution, it took him a week to get up the nerve to travel the narrow winding road that led up Devil Tree Mountain to Castle Rayven. He dressed carefully for his journey. The outfit he chose was of royal blue velvet. A white button up shirt, the coat had a V neck, the sleeves were long, the shorts were knee length, the hem trimmed with black fur. Donning a voluminous light black cloak, he took one last look in the mirror before leaving his room. Not wanting his mother or sisters to see him, he tiptoed out the back door, saddled one of the horses, and rode out of the yard.

It was a bit frightening, riding through the night towards Castle Rayven. The trees cast ominous shadows on the road. He felt his heart drop into his stomach as an owl swooped past his head. Dark clouds gathered overhead, shutting out the moon and the stars. A cold wind rushed down from the mountain, keening sadly as it swept across the land. Ciel was shivering by the time he reached the castle. Dismounting, he tethered the horse, then climbed the steps and knocked on the door. Several mintues later, the door opened with a creak.

"Sir Phantomhive," Meirin exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to visit Lord Sebastian."

Meirin looked momentarily taken aback. "No one has ever come to visit before," she remarked in astonishment. "Is Lord Sebastian expecting you?"

"No. Is he here?"

"Meirin hesitated a moment, then nodded.

"Can I see him?"

Meirin frowned. "Truly, sir, I don't know what to do."

"Is something wrong?"

Meirin took a step forward. "He's been in quite a bad mood, sir," she said, her voice lowered conspiratorially. "I'm not sure that seeing him just now is a good idea."

"Meirin!"

Ciel jumped back, his eyes widening as Sebastian stepped into the hallway. Very slowly, Meirin turned around to face her master. "Sir?"

"You may go, Meirin," Sebastian said, his voice like ice.

"Yes my lord," Meirin said . She sent Ciel a glance that might have been meant to be reassuring, then hurried down the hallway. Like statues, Ciel and Sebastian stood staring at each other until the sound of Meirins's footsteps disappeared.

"What are you doing here?" Sebastian asked, his voice carefully controlled. His eyes, those depthless dark red eyes, held Ciel's captive.

"I...that is...I..." He couldn't speak, couldn't think coherently, with him staring at him like that. Ciel licked his lips gone suddenly dry. Sebastian looked so angry, so ominous standing there. Had he made a mistake in coming here? Had he been mistaken at the ball? Perhaps it hadn't been Sebastian at the masquerade after all. Sebastian walked down the hallway, rapidly closing the distance between them, until they were only at arm's length apart. "I told you never to return here."

Ciel nodded. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his cloak and balled them into tight fists to still their trembling. "So you did, my lord."

"Then why are you here?"

He lifted his chin, refusing to let Sebastian intimidate him. "If you never wanted to see me again, why did you come to the masquerade? Why did you dance with me?" He took a deep breath. "Why did you kiss me?"

Sebastian stiffened. Ciel saw his hands clench at his sides, and knew it was not to still their trembling, but to restrain his anger.

"I know it was you," Ciel said, "so you needn't try to deny it."

"Leave my house," Sebastian said, bitting off each word. "Leave now, while you can."

Ciel looked deep into his eyes. Past the anger lurking there, beneath the harsh timbre of his voice, he sensed the loneliness that plagued him. "I've missed you, my lord," he said quietly. "I had hoped you missed me."

A muscle twitched in Sebastian's jaw. It was the only visible sign of the tension that was spiraling through him. He drew a deep breath, and the scent that was Ciels assailed him - the soap he bathed with, the scent of his hair and skin. Sebastian could smell the nervousness that made Ciel's heart beat fast, smell the blood that flowed in his veins. A sharp blast of wind buffeted Ciel's cloak, its chill breath making him shiver. A moment later, there was a blinding flash of lightning, followed by a tremendous clap of thunder, and then it began to rain. Sebastian swore under his breath. Even the elements seemed to be conspiring against him. He took a step back so Ciel could cross the threshold.

"Come in," he said, though there was no warmth in his voice, no welcome in his eyes.

"My horse..."

"Meirin will see to it," Sebastian said brusquely. "Come in."

Afraid he might change his mind, Ciel quickly did as bidden. He unfastened his cloak, felt Sebastian's hands at his shoulders as he took it from him and hung it on a wooden clothes peg, then shut the door. Wordlessly, Sebastian walked past him. Ciel hesitated only a moment, then followed Sebastian down the long narrow hallway that led to the library. How many hours had he sat in this room, reading to him? Ciel wondered. How often had he watched Sebastian, wishing he would take him in his arms, that he would kiss him as he had longed to be kissed? Had Sebastian known how he felt? Was that why he had sent him away? Ciel paused in the doorway as a horrible thought crossed his mind. Perhaps Sebastian was in love with someone else. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to be bothered with his silly infatuation. Only it wasn't some childish infatuation Ciel felt for him. Sebastian sat down in his favorite chair, his back to Ciel. "Come in Ciel." he invited softly.

Feeling suddenly shy, Ciel crossed the floor and took a seat in the chair across from his. It seemed strange to sit there, as if he were his equal. Most nights, he had sat on the floor with his back to the hearth. Ciel glanced around the room, finding it exactly as it had been the last time he had seen it four years ago. An ancient-looking sword hung over the massive fireplace. A long oak table covered with a black lace cloth stood beneath a pair of tall, stained-glass windows. A narrow shelf made of dark oak held several pewter figurines in the shapes of snarling wolves and ravens in flight. There was no furniture in the room save for the two high-backed chairs.

"You should not have come here." His voice was low and soft.

"I'm sorry if my presence upsets you."

One corner of Sebastian's mouth turned down in a wintery smile. "You have no idea what your presence does to me."

"I am most happy to see you again, my lord," Ciel said candidly. "I had hoped you would feel the same."

"Ciel, I have longed for you these past four years in ways you cannot begin to imagine."

Ciel shook his head. "Then why are you so angry with me?"

"I am not angry."

He looked angry, Ciel thought. Sebastian's hands were curled over the arms of the chair, his knuckles white with the strain. His posture was stiff, unyielding. Ciel could almost see the tension radiating from him.

"What is it, then?" he asked.

"I fear you are not safe here."

"Not safe?"

Sebastian stared past him, listening to the rain drumming on the roof. it was going to storm all night, he mused bleakly. There was no way he could send Ciel home, not now. His gaze skimmed Ciel's face and figure. He was so beautiful. his skin was the color of a porcelain doll, his hair was darker now, a light black. Ciel watched him through guileless blue eyes, his affection for him evident in every glance. Ciel could not stay here. The years without him had not lessened his desire. He wanted him, burned for him, ached for him in ways not known to mortal man. Hunger roared through him. Hunger for the boy's touch, for the very essence of his life. he felt it rise up within him, demanding to be fed, felt the thirst clawing at his insides. Ciel's nearness, the remembered sweetness of him, magnified his longing, his need for this one boy above all others. His fingernails dug into the arms of the chair, gouging the wood. His breathing became shallow and erratic. "Ciel."

"My lord?" Ciel leaned forward, his eyes narrowed as he studied Sebastian's face. "Are you well, my lord? Can I get you a glass of wine?"

"Go to your room."

"But..."

"Go!"

Ciel didn't argue, didn't waste time saying good night. Bolting from his chair, he fairly flew out of the room and up the stairs to the chamber that had once been his. Inside, he locked the door, then stood with his back against the portal, his breath coming in labored gasps. He had fled from Sebastian once before. The memory came surging back, as bright and clear as if it had happened only yesturday instead of years ago. He remembered feeling as though he had escaped a terrible fate that night.

He felt much the same way now.

When his breathing returned to normal, he noticed that the room was just as he had left it. Crossing the floor to the armoire, he opened the elaborately carved double doors. Inside were the outfits he had not taken with him when he left for Paris. He had regretted leaving so many behind, but Sebastian had given him more clothes than any one could wear in a lifetime. Closing the doors, he went to the dresser and opened the drawer that had held his nightgowns. Selecting one, he undressed, drew on the gown. He was about to climb into bed when he noticed the full length mirror Sebastian had given him had been covered with a dark cloth.

Curious, he thought, as he removed the cloth.

Ciel gazed at his reflection. He had been but fifteen the last time he looked in this mirror. He had grown a little taller, his figure a bit more manly, but other than that, he looked much the same. He wished suddenly that he was beautiful. That he had lucious blonde hair like his friend at the convent, Finian, that his eyes were emerald green instead of ordinary blue, that his waist was smaller. No wonder Sebastian had sent him away. Why would he choose him when he could have his pick of beautiful men and women.

Turning away from the mirror, he drew back the covers and slipped into bed. If the rumors were true, Sebastian'd had many, many women, yet he had married none of them. Ciel couldn't help wondering why. Surely a man of his wealth and breeding desired an heir. A baby, he though, a son with Sebastian's black hair and red eyes. Closing his eyes he imagined himself as Sebastian's wife.

As he had so many times in the past, Sebastian stood beside Ciel's bed, watching him sleep. The softness of Ciel's skin tempted his touch, and he curled his hands into tight fists to keep from stroking his cheek. He was so beautiful! And how he adored him. The years without him had been the worst torture he had ever endured. He had thought of Ciel daily, hourly, the memory of his face, his laughter, tormenting him far worse than any pain the heat of the sun might hold. The remembered sweetness of his lips, the nectar of his essence, had forever spoiled him for the taste of anyone else.

Ah. How Sebastian had burned for him, the yearning within himmore excruciatingly painful than the dark hunger that plagued him. Ciel. He had watched Viscount Druitt dancing with him at Trancy's masquerade, and he'd wanted to kill the man, to rip the heart from his chest. Never in all his four-hundred-and-thirty-one years had he experienced such blinding jealousy, such hatred, such an intense urge to destroy. He had known it would be a mistake to attend the masquerade, just as he had known, from the minute Druitt had mention the ball over drinks at Cotyer's, that he would go. Just to see Ciel. But seeing him had not been enough. He wanted, needed, to hold the boy in his arms. His fingernails cut into his palms as he fought the urge to gather Ciel in his arms, to kiss the soft curve of his cheek, to run his tongue along his neck...

A red mist rose up before his eyes. Hunger cramped his stomach and ran like molten lava through his viens. He felt his fangs lengthen, felt the urge to feed rise up within him, a ravening beast straining to be released. "No." The word whispered past his lips. He would not. Could not. Fear drove him toward the door.

"My lord?"

Sebastian stoped, his hands clenched at his sides.

"My lord, is that you?"

"Go to sleep, Ciel." He said. Slowly, he glanced over his shoulder, unleashing the full force of his gaze upon the boy. "Go to sleep, my sweet, and dream your young boy's dreams, while you still can."

Ciel gazed into the dark depths of Sebastian's eyes and felt a familiar lassitude steal through him. his eyelids felt unbearably heavy. With a soft sigh, he closed his eyes.

Just before sleep claimed him, he thought he heard the hauntingly lonely cry of a wolf.


	11. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

I own nothing, sorry it's been so long since I updated.

As usual, Sebastian was nowhere to be found in the morning.

Meirin smiled cheerfully as she moved around the dining room, serving his favorite breakfast, pouring him a cup of cocoa. "I trust you slept well, sir?"

"Yes, thank you." Ciel glanced out the window. Gray clouds hung low in the sky, broken by an occasional flash of lightning. He had always loved storms-the thunder, the lightning, the soothing sound of the rain pounding on the roof, pattering against the window panes. "Will Lord Sebastian be coming down for breakfast?"

Meirin shook her head. "My Lord has offered you the shelter of his house, she said, following her gaze, "until the storm passes."

"Did he?" Odd, he mused, when he seemed so anxious for him to be gone.

"He would not have you catch a chill, sir. There's a cozy fire in the library, should you wish to read, and also in the conservatory, should you wish to play."

"Thank you, Meirin." he sipped the hot chocolate she had placed before him, relishing the smooth rich taste. "I thought you told me Lord Sebastian wasn't here."

"Did I?"

"Yo know you did. Why did you lie to me?"

A guilty flush climbed into the young womans cheeks.

"The last time I came here, you said he had left the castle shortly after he sent me to Paris."

Meirin shifted uncomfortably. "I only told you what I was instructed to say, sir," she replied quietly. "It would have been better for all concerned if you had believed me."

"Better? what do you mean?"

Meirin glanced at the door; then, heaving a sigh, she sat down at the table across from him. Ciel stared at her in surprise. Never before had she sat at the table with him, or crossed the fine line between servent and friend.

"Mr. Ciel, I know you think yourself in love with Lord Sebastian," she said, speaking quickly, as though she feared being caught speaking to him so candidly. "'Tis true my lord has a certain appeal that most find hard to resist."

"I didn;t realise my feelings were so transparent." Ciel muttered dryly.

Meirin leaned across the table, her voice somber. "You must believe me when I tell you it isn't safe for you to stay here."

Ciel frowned. Sebastian had said practically the same thing the night before. "I don't understand."

"Lord Sebastian is a man compelled by dark appetites, sir. Appetites he cannot always control. You would be wise to leave this place and never come back."

"Dark appetites?" Ciel shook his head. "Whatever are you talking about?"

Meirin glanced at the door again, her expression wary. "I cannot explain, sir, except to say that Lord Sebastian is not like other men. He is driven by forces you cannot comprehend. It is why he lives in solitude."

"I don't believe you. If he's such a monster, why has he never harmed me? Why did he send me to school and provide for my family?"

Meirin took a deep breath. "I've said too much already, sir." Rising, she placed a motherly hand on his shoulder. "Go home, mr. Ciel. As soon as the storm passes, go home."

Smoothered in darkness, Sebastian felt his anger rise to the surface. How dare Meirin interfer in his personal life! What right did the woman have to warn Ciel away from him?

Muttering an oath, he took a deep breath, the anger washing out of him between one breath and the next. Meirin had said nothing the he, Sebastian, had not said himself. If Ciel were wise, he would leave this house and never return.

He had no illusion about what he was. He reeked of evil, of death. He had done things, committed acts that had damned his soul forever. No matter that he had not choosen this life for himself. Once the deed had been done, he could have ended it. he could have walked into the sunlight and destroyed the creature he had become. He gazed into the darkness that shrouded him, a distant memory rising up in his mind...

"_I don't want it!"_

_He screamed the words as he struggled against her, but his meek human strength was as nothing compared to hers._

_"But you will take it," she said, her black eyes wise with knowledge beyond his understanding._

_ "You are a warrior, Sebastian of Millbrea. You will not submit. You will not surrender. You will fight with every ounce of strength you possess to survive." She laughed softly, confindently. "You would drink me dry if I let you."_

_"No! Never!"_

_"But you will." The certainty in her voice, the red glow in her eyes, had filled him with terror. Effortlessly, she had held him close while she raked one bloodred nail across his cheek. "I have marked you," she said. "so that you will always remember me."_

_And then she pressed him back on the couch, holding him effortlessly in spite of him violent struggle to escape. He cried out as he felt the sharp bite of her teeth at his throat. Revulsion rose within him as he realised she was drinking his wanted desperately to fight her, but he had no strength left. There was a buzzing in his ears, his heart was beating frantically, a hazy red mist rose up in front of his eyes._

_"No, don't..." Weakness engulfed him, his heartbea slowed and he grew heavy, and he felt the blackness of oblivion descending. And with it a nameless fear worse than the fear of death._

_"Please..." He formed the word but no sound emerged from his lips._

_"You want to live?" Her breath was hot against his ear. "Then drink."_

_He was too weak to move, to obey. He tried to see her face, but saw nothing at all._

_"Drink!"_

_He didn't want to sumbit, but the will to live rose strong within him. He was, after all, a warrior, born to fight, to conquer. He opened his mouth, and she pressed her wrist to his lips._

_"Drink."_

_His mouth closed over her flesh, A rush of liquid flowed over his tongue, warm and slightly salty. It slid down his throat like liquid fire, and suddenly he was clinging to her arm, drawing the blood into his mouth, revultion and delight warring within him. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, growing ever stronger, beating in rhythm with hers. Power surged within him, ignitting a craving for more._

_ "Enough!" She wrenched her arm from his grasp. "Enough, I say!"_

_He stared up at her, dazed, his gaze lingering on the redness around her mouth, the blood oozing from the gash in her wrist. A gash that was closing, healing, even as he watched. Horror descended slowly. Lifting his hand, he wiped his mouth, then stared at he scarlet wetness on his fingertips. Her blood. He had been drinking her blood._

_Slowly, seductively, she licked the redness from her lips. "You are mine now," she said, "always and forever mine."_

_"No." He shook his head, numb with the horror of what he had done, what he would become._

_"You died tonight," she told him, her voice calm and detached, as if the words were of no significance. "When you wake tomorrow night, you will be as I am."_

He had not wanted to believe. Had refused to believe. Even when the violent tremors wracked his body, even when, with the sun's rising, darkness the likes of which he had never experienced enveloped him. Even when he woke the next night and saw the world through new eyes, he had not wanted to believe.

But it was true.

He had become a vampyre, damned to spend his life in darkness, to be forever at the mercy of the Dark Gift, forced to live in the shadows, to exist on the blood of others, or perish...

Vampyre...the world echoed and re-echoed through the corridors of his mind as the familiar darkness enconpassed him once more.

He was still in the house when he awoke. He felt his presence wih his first conscious breath. Why hadn't he left? Rising, Sebastian bathed and donned fresh clothing. Leaving the tower, he hurried downstairs, only dimly aware that it was still raining. Ciel was sitting in the library, his feet curled underneath him. For a moment, he stood in the doorway, watching him. He wore a blouse of pale green velvet tied with a dark green sash and black shorts. His slippers were of the same dark green. His hair shimmering in the firelight. A slender gold chain circled his throat. The rain falling against the windows made a pleasant counterpoint to the crackling flames.

As though suddenly aware of his presence, he looked up, his cheeks turning rosy when he saw Sebastian watching him.

"Good evening, my lord." He put the book he had been reading aside, pleased that his hand didn't tremble, that his voice was calm.

"Good evening, sweet Ciel."

He entered the room on silent feet and sat down in he chair opposite his. His cloak settled lovingly around him, enfolding him like the wings of a great black bird.

"I meant to leave," Ciel said, his nearness making him suddenly nervous, "but Meirin said I should wait out the storm."

Sebastian nodded. His whole being seemed to be reaching for him. Hungering for him. Did he really want Ciel to go? When not let him stay? He could live comfortably here. His wealth could buy him whatever he desired. He would make sure Ciel lacked for nothing... He clenched his jaw. He could never give him the things every young man wanted. He could stay by his side, but he could never share his whole life. He could care for him when age and disease took their toll, but he would never grow old with him. And in the end, he would stand by his grave, looking exactly as he did now.

"You can send me away if you want." Ciel said, unnerved by his silence, by the fierce glitter in the depths of his hell red eyes. "You can send me away, or you can leave, but I'll always be here when you come back."

"You are not afraid of me are you?" Sebastian asked, his voice touched with wonder.

"Afraid? Of you?" Ciel shook his head. Sometimes he made him feel apprehensive, but he had never been truely afraid. He knew, in the deepest part of his being, that Sebstian would never intentionally harm him.

"You should be." He spoke the words calmly, as if commenting on the inclement weather.

"Do you want me to be afraid?"

"It would be easier if you were."

"Better for whom? You speak in riddles, my lord."

"Pray you never understand them." He turned the full force of his gaze upon Ciel, and in spite of Ciel's brave words to the contrary, Ciel felt a sudden chill of unease. Clasping his hands in his lap, he took a deep breath. "Shall I leave?"

"You are welcome to stay," Sebastian said, one hands idly stroking the rich velvet of his cloak, "until the storm ends." He would offer him a bribe, he thought, offer to grant him anything he desired, anything that would take him away from this place, from his presence. He regarded Ciel through narrowed eyes, "I am going to grant you a boon, Ciel. One wish. Ask forwhatsoever your heart desires above all else, and it shall be yours."

"You can do such a thing?"

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Sebastian's lips. "You would be surprised at what I can do." Ciel frowned, certain he was imagining things, yet he would have sworn Sebastian's cloak wrapped itself more tightly around his broad shoulders, that it soothed him in some way.

"Anything?" he asked.

"Only name your heart's desire."

"And you will grant it to me? You promise?"

Sebastian nodded. "What will it be?" he asked curiously. "Riches? A gine house staffed with servants? A return to Paris? Only name it and it's yours."

"I wish to stay here with you." Ciel replied quietly, "for as long as it pleases me to do so. I wish to live in your house and spend time with you each night."

Sebastian stared at him. Of all the things he had imagined Ciel might ask for, the mosth obvious had never occured to him. "Ask for something else."

"No. you gave me your word." Ciel's gaze met his. "Is it your intention to break it?"

"No." His voice was choked, hoarse, as though it were an effort to speak. "One year. I will give you one year."

Ciel's smile was radiant. Triumphant. "Thank you. Would you ask Meirin to pick up my things in the morning? Oh! I must write a note to my mother and let her know I shall be staying here. Would you ask her to come for it before she goes?"

Sebastian nodded curtly. Then, feeling like a spider caught in its own web, he stood up, his expression bleak, his eyes as cold as the rain plummeling the windowpanes. "I pray you do not regret your choice," he said and swept out of the room, his cloak swirling around his ankles as though blown by an angry wind.


	12. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I own nothing, Sorry for the long wait.

Meirin climbed the stairs to the east tower, aware of the unrest that trouble her master. She had been in Sebastian's employ for over fifty years. She had been but a youth of fourteen when the vampyre saved her life. In exchange, Meirin had sworn to dedicate the rest of her life to serving Sebastian.

Crossing the floor, she stood in the doorway of the inner chamber in the east tower, her expression carefully neutral as she watched Sebastian remove his cloak and toss it over the back of a chair.

Meirin eyed the cloak warily. It was a most unusual garment, often seeming as though ut possessed a life of its own.

"What am I to do?" Sebastian asked, his voice rising with anger. "He cannot stay here! I cannot bear it."

Meirin remained silent, knowing no answer was expected. Never had she seen her master in such an agitated state. Sebastian raked his hands through his hair, a string of vicious oaths escaping his lips as he paced the floor, his long legs carrying him from one end of the room to the other in less than a half-dozen strides. He paused abruptly, turned, and went to the window of the outer room. He could feel the tention building within him as he stared into the garden below. How many nights had he stood here, gazing out over the castle walls, wishing he was here, wishing for one more night, one more hour in his presence? But a year?

He groaned softly. He had sent him away because he was losing control of his desire, of the fierce hunger that drove him relentlessly, urging him to take what he needed, to bring Ciel to the vast gilf that separated them so that he might ease the loneliness of his endless existance.

He had always been arrogant and selfish, but he had never been cruel, and so he hand sent Ciel away to protect him from his own desire. And now he was here again, in the castle again, in his life again, and it was as if he had never gone away. Ciel's scent was everwhere - on his skin, his clothes, in the very air he breathed.

"Is there anything else you wish this evening? Meirin asked.

"What?" Sebastian whirled around. He had all but forgotten the woman was in the room. "No. Go to bed. Wait. Tomorrow morning you will go to Ciel's and collect his belongings. He also wishes you to deliver a note to his mother."

Meirin nodded. "I shall see to it." she took a deep breath. "Will you be coming down tomorrow night?"

"I promised him, didn't I?" Sebastian snapped, his voice like death.

"Yes my lord. And will you also be joining him at supper?"

"Yes." Sebastian clenched his hands into tight fists, his expression bleak. "Don't forget the wine."

Meirin nodded curtly, then left the stark tower room, closing the door behind her. She heard the sound of the bolt being shot home. It was going to be a long year, she thought. For all of them.

Ciel was waiting for him at the supper table the following night. Dressed in a rich green-colored shirt and shorts, he fair took his breath away.

"Good evening, my lord," Ciel said, smiling up at him. Sebastian was clad in black from head to heel. He looked dark and dangerous, a midnight rogue who made Ciel's heartbeat quicken and his insides quiver with desire. "I'm so glad you decided to join me."

Sebastian took the seat across from him. "I said I would, did I not?"

"Yes, but I though you might have changed your mind."

His eyes narrowed. "My word, when given, is as good as that of any other man."

"Yet you feel as though I tricked you somehow."

"I thought you would be likely to ask for something that would be of benefit to you or your family."

Sebastian picked up the crystal decanter and poured himself a glass of wine.

"Yes, my family. You have been most kind to them, my lord. I thank you for that."

Sebastian made a vague gesture of dimissal with his hand. "Why do you insist on staying here when you know I want you gone?"

Ciel watched him drain his glass, wondering why he downed it so quickly. Wasn't wine to be savored?

"Because, my lord, in this one instance, my pleasure means more to me than yours."

Ciel pushed his plate away and stood up, offering Sebastian his hand. "Shall we go into the library? Meirin has laid a fire, and I have a new book I wish to read."

Rising, Sebastian took the boy's hand in his, felt the quick jolt of awareness that passed from Ciel's hand to his. The boy stared up at him through wide blue eyes. "my lord," he murmured, and he knew Ciel felt it too. Unable to help himself, he drew the boy into his arms. He gazed into Ciel's eyes for a timeless moment, and then he kissed him. It was a burtal kiss, violent, angry, filled with a fierce longing that could never be fulfilled. His hands tightened on Ciel's shoulders as he deepened the kiss, bruising the boy's lips.

"You should leave the house, sweet Ciel," he growled. "Leave now, while I am still able to let you go."

Dazed by the intensity of his kiss, Ciel could only shake his head. Sebastian kissed him again, his tongue plundering the softness of his mouth. His warm hands moved over him, hot and restless, molding Ciel's body to his, letting him feel the rigid evidence of his desire.

Ciel's head fell back over his arm, exposing the slender curve of his neck. Sebastian's gaze fastened on the pulse thobbing wildly in the base of his throat. He could hear the rapid beat of Ciel's heart, smell the blood heating in his veins. And then he felt the prick of his fangs against his tongue.

Abruptly, Sebastian thrust Ciel away, his hands curling into tight fists at his sides.

"Ciel, I beg you, ask another wish of me. Anything." he whispered, his voice laced with desperation. "I'll give you anything else. This castle, if you wish it, my fortune, anything."

"I only want to stay here, with you, my lord," Ciel replied softly. "I know when the year is up, you will send me away, but I want to spend this time with you."

"I only hope it will not prove to be your undoing," Sebastian muttered under his breath, and turning away from him, he left the room.

He hunted that night, hunted for prey as he had not hunted in years, knowing that tonight, a few sips of Ciel's precious blood would not be enough to still the awful hunger that his mere presence stirred within him. A year, he mused as he bent over his helpless victim. Compared to the centuries behind him, to the eternity that stretched before him, twelve months was less than a moment in time, yet he feared it was a year that would see his end, or Ciels.

Ciel began his seduction the following night, determined to have Sebastian in his bed before the year was out. Sebastian had made it clear that he did not love him, that he would never marry him, but he was determined that he would be the first to bed him.

He had dreamed of Sebastian for four long years, dreamed and yearned, and now he meant to have him. Ciel had heard whispers of how easy it was to seduce a man. Men were easily led on by a pretty face. To Ciel's regret, Sebastian seemed to be the exception to the rule. Now matter how brazenly he flirted with him, no matter how bodly he teased and tempted, Sebastian refused to succumb to his enticements. Ciel knew Sebastian wanted him. He could see the hunger in his eyes, hear it in his voice, feel it in the way his arms trembled when he occasionaly weaked and drew him close. But always, at the last, Sebastian thrust him away and left the room.

Sebastian had done it every night for so long.

Tonight had been no exception.

Ciel stood beside the fire, staring after him, wondering if he lacked some vital attraction. With a sigh, Ciel dropped down into Sebastian's favorite chair. He left his cloak draped across the back, and he drew it into his lap, idly stroking the fine velvet. How alive it seemed as Ciel spread it over his legs. Of its own accord, it seemed to press against him, warming him. Soothing him. Suddenly weary, he closed his eyes, felt himself swept away into a world of darkness. His hands clutched the smooth velvet as disjointed scenes filled his mind - he saw Sebastian walking along a dark dusty path, his cloak floating behind him like ink splashed against the darkness of the night; he saw a dark gray mist surround a drunken man, heard the man's faint cry of terror, and over all hung a mist of darkness and the scent of blood; she saw a sleek black wolf standing over the carcass of a deer, heard a long, lonely howl echo in his ears...

He woke with a start, his brow damp with perspiration, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Tossing the cloak to the floor, he scrambled to his feet and ran out of the room.

Viscount Druitt came calling late the following afternoon. Meirin showed him to the front parlor, her face a mask of disapproval as Ciel made the man welcome.

"Meirin, will you please bring us some tea," Ciel requested, "and a few scones, perhaps?"

"As you wish," Meirin replied. She fixed him with another disproving stare, "And now, my lord," Ciel exclaimed softly, "what brings you to castle Rayven?"

"You, of course," Druitt said. "Why else would anyone make such an arduous journey."

"Not arduous, surely?" Ciel teased.

"I would have climbed a mountain twice as high to see you smile again." Druitt replied gallantly.

"Indeed?" Ciel mused. "And would you have crossed crocodile-infested waters, as well?"

"To be sure." Druitt's smile faded as he took Ciel's hands in his. "Why have you come back here, Ciel?" he asked, his tone and expression grave. "Did Sebastian force you? Threaten you in some manner?"

"Of course not. I'm here because I choose to be here."

"I don't understand."

"It's quite simple, really. Lord Sebastian said he would grant me anything I asked for, and I asked to live here. He's letting me stay here for a year."

Druitt stared at him as if he were speaking in a language he couldn't quite understand. "You asked to stay here?" With him? But why?"

"I'm afraid I can't explain it."

Druitt raked a hand through his hair, thinking that, if he lived to be a hundred, he would never understand the workings of Ciel's mind. "Well, I wish you'd try!"

Ciel shook his head. "I can't." He studied Druitt for a moment, then frowned. "Why are you so distressed? I thought you were his friend."

"Sebastian has no friends."

"Why ever not?"

"Because he wishes for none. He is a solitary man."

"You play cards together at Cotyer's."

Druitt nodded. "True enough, but he keeps us all at arm's length, and allows no familiarity. He's never accepted any invitations extended to him, nor offered any in return."

"I find that passing strange."

"As do I, I assure you."

Druitt released Ciel's hands as Meirin entered the room bearing a silver tea tray. Back stiff, Meirin placed the tray on a low table, fixed Ciel with a warning glance, and left the room. Taking a seat, Ciel poured tea for Druitt, then himself.

After a moment, Druitt sat in the chair across from his. "I'm afraid it will be most difficult, courting you here."

Ciel added milk and sugar to both cups, then handed one to Druitt. "You indeed tend to court me, my lord?"

"I thought you had guessed that by now?"

"But...I mean..." Ciel shook his head. "Surely you intend to marry a person of quality."

"I do, indeed." Druitt smiled at him, he had every intention of marrying Ciel, and he would tell him so, when the time was right. "May I call upon you again?"

"Druitt, you must know that there can be nothing between us but friendship. I love Sebastian."

The Viscount nodded, convinced that he could win Ciel's heart if given the chance. Ciel hesitated, wondering if Sebastian would object, and then he put such concern aside. He was never about during the day. Why should he care what he did? Sebastian had made it quite clear he had no interest in him, that he intended to send him away when that year was done.

"Ciel?"

He regarded Druitt a moment more, and then nodded. "I shall be delighted to have you call on me."

Druitt smiled, obviously pleased. "There is a new play at the theater. Would you care to attend?"

"Yes, I think so." He smiled thoughtfully. Nothing else had worked. Perhaps jealousy would produce the result he sought.

"Ciel, it matters not to me, but..." Druitt put his cup on the table and raked a hand through his hair. "Aren't you concerned about what the people in the village with say about your living here, with him?"

"I never gave it any thought," Ciel said. And, indeed, he hadn't. Thinking about it now, he realized it didn't matter what anyone thought. He was determined to stay here, with Sebastian, and he was willing to sacrifice his reputation to do so.

"Are you sure this is really what you want?" Druitt asked.

"I'm sure."

"Then I'll say no more about it."

They passed the next hour in quiet conversation, and then Viscount Druitt took his leave.

Ciel had just sat down to supper when Sebastian entered the dining room. He stood towering over him, a fierce scowl on his face.

"What was Druitt doing here?" Sebastian demanded brusquely. He had caught the man's scent even before he left the east tower.

"He came calling, my lord," Ciel said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "I did not think you would mind, since he is your friend."

Sebastian's eyes narrowed. "Did he tell you that?"

"Tell me what?"

"That we were friends."

Ciel started to lie. He wanted to lie, but found he could not, not when Sebastian's dark eyes were fixed hard upon his face.

"What did he say?" Sebastian asked, his voice low and silky smooth.

"He said...he said you would not accept friendship."

Sebastian glanced over his shoulder as Meirin entered the room. "You will not allow Druitt, or any other man, into my house again. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." Meirin said.

With a curt nod, Sebastian turned his attention back to Ciel. "Is that clear to you as well?"

"Yes, my lord, but..."

"But what?"

"But why? Why do you shut yourself up in this castle? Why not let Viscount Druitt visit you here? I think he would be your friend, if you would but let him."

"I have no need to explain my reasons to you, Ciel. Suffice it to say that no one is welcome here."

"Including me?"

"Most especially you."

"You are most rude, my lord."

Sebastian smiled then. It was most unexpected, and most welcome.

"I apologize for my behavior, sweet Ciel, but I fear you must learn to tolerate my moods if you insist upon staying here."

"Indeed, I shall, my lord," Ciel retorted. "For neither your foul temper nor your bad manners shall drive me away."

Sebastian sat down in the chair across from Ciel and reached for the glass of wine the Meirin had poured for him. He lifted the crystal goblet, studying the contents a moment before he took a drink. A look of pleasure crossed his face as he set the goblet on the table. "Finish your supper, sweet Ciel, and then I should like to visit the maze."

"As you wish, my lord."

"Indeed, my sweet. Exactly as I wish."

It was most disconcerting, dining under his watchful eye. Ciel's hands trembled, he knocked over his water glass, spilled a bit of gravy in his lap. And all the while, he could feel Sebastian's unblinking gaze upon him, as black as the night sky.

When he finished eating, Sebastian donned his cloak, then draped a warm shawl around Ciel's shoulders. The gardens lay quiet under a hunter's moon. He took Ciel's hand and they walked toward the maze. Ciel tried to think of something amusing to say, some bit of small talk to ease that taut silence that stretched between them, but nothing came to mind.

"Perhaps, in the spring, you will work your magic in the gardens again." Sebastian remarked after a while.

"If you wish, though I would have your promise that you will not let everything die again when I'm gone."

"You have it."

"I think I shall plant daisies near the summer house this time," Ciel said, thinking out loud. "And more roses, of course."

"Red ones," Sebastian said.

"And yellow ones, too."

"No, just red. And white." Red for the blood that sustained him; white for the purity of the boy beside him.

"Then I shall have yellow daisies.

Sebastian smiled in defeat.

"Why didn't you look after some of the roses in the garden as you looked after the roses within the maze?" Ciel asked as they strolled along the winding pathway.

"I warned Meirin of dire consequences should the roses in the maze be allowed to die."

"Why such concern for the one and not the other?"

Sebastian stopped. Turning Ciel to face him, and took the boy's hands in his. "You planted the roses in the garden for your own pleasure," he explained, his thumbs making lazy circles over the backs of Ciel's hands. "But you planted the roses in the maze for me."

The look in Sebastian's eyes made Ciel's heart beat fast. His touch sent shivers up Ciel's arms. The sound of Sebastian's voice moved over him and through him. His voice. He had never heard another like it, deep and rich, filled with arrogance and command.

"Why do you live alone?" Ciel asked. "Why do you let no one get close?"

"I am a solitary creature by nature," he replied.

"You have an odd way of speaking of yourself," Ciel said, "as if you were different from everyone else."

"Do you think I am not?"

And in that moment, Ciel knew that he _was_ different. Different from him, different from anyone else he had ever known, though he could not say why. And then he remembered an odd remark Sebastian had once made.

"Do you recall the night before I left for Paris?" Ciel asked as they continued walking.

"I remember." It had been the worst night of his life.

"You said something that night, something most peculiar."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. You said no mortal had ever crept up on you before."

Sebastian hesitated a moment before answering, and it seemed as if he withdrew into himself a little. "Did I?"

Ciel nodded. "Don't you think that's odd?"

"Explain yourself," Sebastian said, though he knew exactly what he ment.

"You used the word _mortal_ as if it applied to me, but not to you."

"Did I?"

"You know you did!"

To distract him, Sebastian drew him into his arms. "You are the most beautiful person I've ever known," he said, his voice husky. "Your eyes are as blue as a midsummer sky. Your skin is like alabaster kissed by the sun. And your hair..." He ran his fingers through the hair at his nape. "Your hair is as soft as the finest silk."

With a sigh, Ciel melted against him, his face turned up to his, inviting Sebastian's kiss. His lips brushed Ciel's. "Are you in love with Druitt?"

Ciel blinked at him. "What?"

"Are you in love with Druitt?" he demanded. His hands tightened on Ciel's shoulders, his eyes burning with a fierce anger.

"No, my lord."

"I don't want you to see him again."

"I thought you wanted me to marry." Ciel tilted his head back to better see Sebastian's face. "Isn't that what you said?"

"Not Druitt." He bit off each word, refusing to admit that he was jealous of the man, of any man. "Not Druitt." he said again, and hated the man because he could give Ciel all the things he deserved.

"Very well, my lord, I'll not see him again so long as I am in residence here."

Sebastian wanted to shake him, to make him promise he would never see the man again, not now, not ever.

"There's just one thing," Ciel said. "I gave him leave to call on me."

"Meirin with send him away."

Ciel couldn't help it. He smiled, pleased at the notion that Sebastian was jealous of his affection for Druitt. Surely it was a good sign. Clasping his hands in his, Sebstain turned and headed back toward the castle.

"I thought you were going to sit in the maze awhile," Ciel said, quickening his steps to keep up with him.

"Not tonight," Sebastian said, his voice almost a growl. Not tonight, he though, when his black heart burned with jealousy, when the rage running through him kindled his hunger until he was almost mad with the need to hunt. At the castle door, he drew Ciel into his arms, his cloak enfolding them both in a cocoon of lush velvet and warm silk. Ciel was trembling when Sebastian's mouth covered his.

"You are mine, sweet Ciel," he murmured. His eyes burned into Ciel's, his breath fanned his cheek like a flame. "For this year, you belong to me and no one else."


End file.
